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ANNIE 


COMMENCED A SERIES OF NONSENSE TALES” {p. I75) 




A WORLD OF GIRLS 


THE STORY OF A SCHOOL 


BY 

T']' MEADE 

AUTHOR OF “WILTON CHASE,” “A SWEET GIRL GRADUATE,” “GIRLS 
NEW AND OLD,” “FOUR ON AN ISLAND,” “BASHFUL FIFTEEN,” 
“RED ROSE AND TIGER LILY,” “ PALACE BEAUTIFUL,” “RING 
OF RUBIES,” “ BETTY, A SCHOOL GIRL,” “ POLLY, A NEW- 
FASHIONED GIRL,” “ OUT OF THE FASHION,” “GOOD 
LUCK,” “ A GIRL IN TEN THOUSAND,” ETC., ETC. 


WITH ORIGINAL ILL US TR A TIONS BV 

M. E. ' EDWARDS 


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NEW YORK 

THE MERSHON COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 

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CONTENTS 


CHArrsR rAGB 

I. “ Good-bye ” TO THE Old Life 7 

II. Travelling Companions ii 

III. At Lavender House 17 

IV. Little Drawing-Rooms and Little Tiffs ... 2a 

V. The Head-Mistress 30 

VI. “I AM Unhappy” 33 

VII. A Day at School . 36 

VIII. “You have Waked me too soon” ‘ . . .46 

IX. Work and Play . . 52 

X. Varieties , • • 59 

XI. What was Found in the School-Desk ... 69 

XII. In the Chapel 8x 

XIII. Talking over the Mystery ...... 87 

XIV. “ Sent to Coventry ” . 93 

XV. About some People who Thought no Evil . . 97 

XVI. “An Enemy hath done this” loa 

XVII, “ The Sweets are Poisoned ” no 


iv C0N7'£NrS, 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII. In the Hammock uS 

XIX, Cup and Ball 121 

XX. In the South Parlour 127 

XXI. Stealing Hearts i34 

XXll. In Burn Castle Wood 137 

XXIII. “ Humpty-Dumpty had A Great Fall” . . 148 

XXIV. Annie to the Rescue 152 

XXV. A Spoilt Baby 159 

XXVI. Under the Laurel Bush.- 165 

XXVII. Truants 169 

XXVIII. In the Fairies’ Field ..... 173 

XXIX. Hester’s Forgotten Book 178 

XXX. “A Muddy Stream” 185 

XXXI. Good and Bad Angels 191 

XXXII. Fresh Suspicions • 193 

XXXIII. Untrustworthy 198 

XXXIV. Betty Falls III at an Awkward Time . . 203 

XXXV. “You ARE Welcome to Tell” .... 210 

XXXVI. How Moses Moore Kept his Appointment . . 215 

XXXVII. A Broken Trust 219 

XXXVIII. Is SHE still Guilty? 224 

XXXIX. Hester’s Hour of Trial 229 


I 


Contents. v 

CHAPtER page 

XL. A Gipsy Maid 235 

XLI. Disguised . . . 240 

XLII. Hester 245 

XLI 1 1 . Susan 249 

XLIV. Under the Hedge 252 

XLV, Tiger 255 

XLVI. For Love of Nan 260 

XLVII. Rescued 266 

XLVIII, Dark Days 268 

XLIX. Two Confessions 273 

L. The Heart of Little Nan 279 

LI. The Prize Essay ... . . . , a86 









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"I 




A WORLD OF GIRLS: 


THE STORY OF A SCHOOL, 


CHAPTER 1. 

“GOOD-BYE” TO THE OLD LIFE. 

“Me want to see Hetty,” said an imperious baby 
voice. 

“ No, no ; not this morning. Miss Nan, dear.” 

“ Me do want to see Hetty,” was the quick, im- 
patient reply. And a sturdy indignant little face 
looked up at Nurse, to watch the effect of the last 
decisive words. 

Finding no affirmative reply on Nurse’s placid 
face, the small lips closed firmly — two dimples came 
and went on two very round cheeks — the mischievous 
brown eyes grew full of laughter, and the next moment 
the little questioner had squeezed her way through a 
slightly open door, and was toddling down the broad 
stone stairs and across a landing to Hetty’s room. 
The room-door was open, so the truant went in. A 
bed with the bed-clothes all tossed about, a half worn- 
out slipper on the floor, a very untidy dressing-table 
met her eyes, but no Hetty. 

“ Me want Hetty, me do,” piped the treble voice, 
and then the little feet commenced a careful and 
watchful pilgrimage, the lips still firmly shut, the 
dimples coming and going, and the eyes throwing 


8 A World of Girls. 

many upward glances in the direction of Nurse and 
the nursery. 

No pursuit as yet, and great, great hope of finding 
Hetty somewhere in the down-stair regions. Ah, 
now, how good ! those dangerous stairs had been 
descended, and the little voice calling in shrill tones 
for Hetty rang out in the wide hall. 

“ Let her come to me,” suddenly said an answering 
voice, and a girl of about twelve, dressed in deep 
mourning, suddenly opened the door of a small study 
and clasped the little one in her arms. 

So you have found me, my precious, my dearest ! 
Brave, plucky little Nan, you have got away from 
Nurse and found me out ! Come into the study now, 
darling, and you shall have some breakfast.'’^ 

Me want a bicky, Hetty,” said the baby voice ; 
the round arms clasped Hester’s neck, but the brown 
eyes were already travelling eagerly over the break- 
fast table in quest of spoil for those rosy little lips. 

“ Here are two biscuits. Nan. Nan, look me in 
the face — here, sit steady on my knee ; you love me, 
don’t you. Nan ?” 

“ Course me do,” said the child. 

“And Pm going away from you. Nan, darling. 
For months and months I won’t see anything of you. 
My heart will be always with you, and I shall think 
of you morning, noon, and night. I love no one as I 
love you. Nan. You will think of me, and love me 
too ; won’t you. Nan ? ” 

“ Me will,’^ said Nan “ me want more bicky, 
Hetty.” 

“Yes, yes,” answered Hester; ‘'put your arms 
tight round my neck, and you shall have sugar, too. 
Tighter than that, Nan, and you shall have two lumps 


1 


Baby Nan, 


9 


of sugar — oh, yes, you shall — I don’t care if it makes 
you sick — you shall have just what you want the last 
moment we are together.” 

Baby Nan was only too pleased to crumple up a 
crape frill and to smear a black dress with sticky 
little fingers for the sake of the sugar which Hetty 
plied her with. 

“ More, Hetty,” she said ; “ me’ll skeeze ’oo vedy 
tight for more.” . 

On this scene Nurse unexpectedly entered. 

“ Well, I never ! and so you found your way all 
down-stairs by yourself, you little toddle. Now, Miss 
Hetty, I hope you haven’t been giving the precious 
lamb sugar; you know it never does suit the little dear. 
Oh, fie ! baby ; and what sticky hands ! Miss Hetty, 
she has crumpled all your crape frills.” 

“ What matter .? ” said Hester. I wanted a good 
hug, and I gave her three or four lumps. Babies won’t 
squeeze you tight for nothing. There, my Nancy, go 
back to Nurse. Nurse, take her away; I’ll break 
down in a minute if I see her looking at me with that 
little pout.” 

Nurse took the child into her arms. 

“ Good-bye, Miss Hester, dear. Try to be a good 
girl at school. Take my word, missy — things won’t 
be as dark as they seem.” 

“ Good-bye, Nurse,” said Hester hastily. “ Is that 
you, father ? are you calling me .? ” 

She gathered up her muff and gloves, and ran 
out of the little study where she had been making 
believe to eat breakfast. A tall, stern-looking man 
was in the hall, buttoning on an overcoat ; a brougham 
waited at the door. The next moment Hester and 
her father were bowling away in the direction of the 


10 


A World of Girls. 


nearest railway station. Nan^s little chubby face had 
faded from view. The old square, grey house, sacred 
to Hester because of Nan, had also disappeared ; the 
avenue even was past, and Hester closed her bright 
brown eyes. She felt that she was being pushed out 
into a cold world, and was no longer in the same snug 
nest with Nan. An intolerable pain was at her 
heart ; she did not glance at her father, who during 
their entire drive occupied himself over his morning 
paper. At last they reached the railway station, and 
just as Sir John Thornton was handing his daughter 
into a comfortable first-class carriage, marked “For 
Ladies only,” and was presenting her with her railway 
ticket and a copy of the last week’s illustrated news- 
paper, he spoke — 

“ The guard will take care of you, Hester. I am 
giving him full directions, and he will come to you at 
every station, and bring you tea or any refreshment 
you may require. This train takes you straight to 
Sefton, and Mrs. Willis will meet you, or send for you 
there. Good-bye, my love; try to be a good girl, 
and curb your wild spirits. I hope to see you very 
much improved when you come home at Midsummer. 
Good-bye, dear, good-bye. Ah, you want to kiss me 
— well, just one kiss. There — oh, my dear ! you know 
I have a great dislike to emotion in public.” 

Sir John Thornton said this because a pair of arms 
had been flung suddenly round his neck, and two 
kisses imprinted passionately on his sallow cheek. 
A tear also rested on his cheek, but that he wiped 
away. 


CHAPTER II. 


TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. 

The train moved rapidly on its way, and the girl in 
one corner of the railway carriage cried silently be- 
hind her crape veil. Her tears were very subdued, 
but her heart felt sore, bruised, indignant ; she hated 
the idea of school-life before her, she hated the 
expected restraints and the probable punishments ; 
she fancied herself going from a free life into a prison, 
and detested it accordingly. 

Three months before, Hester Thornton had been 
one of the happiest, brightest, and merriest of little 

girls in shire ; but the mother who was her 

guardian angel, who had kept the frank and spirited 
child in check without appearing to do so, who had 
guided her by the magical power of love and not in 
the least by that of fear, had met her death sud- 
denly by means of a carriage accident, and Hester 
and baby Nan were left motherless. Several little 
brothers and sisters had come between Hester and 
Nan, but from various causes they had ail died in 
their infancy, and only the eldest and youngest of 
Sir John Thornton’s family remained. 

Hester’s father was stern, uncompromising. He 
was a very just and upright man, but he knew no- 
thing of the ways of children, and when Hester in 
her usual tom-boyish fashion climbed trees and tore 
her dresses, and rode bare-backed on one or two of 
his most dangerous horses, he not only tried a little 
sharp, and therefore useless, correction, but deter- 


12 


A World of Girls. 


mined to take immediate steps to have his wild and 
rather unmanageable little daughter sent to a first- 
class school. Hester was on her way there now, 
and very sore was her heart, and indignant her 
impulses. Father’s “ good-bye ” seemed to her to be 
the crowning touch to her unhappiness, and she made 
up her mind not to be good, not to learn her lessons, 
not to come home at Midsummer crowned with 
honours and reduced to an every-day and pattern 
little girl. No, she would be the same wild Hetty, as 
of yore ; and when father saw that school could do 
nothing for her, that it could never make her into a 
good and ordinary little girl, he would allow her to 
remain at home. At home there was, at least. Nan 
to love, and there was mother to remember. 

Hetty was a child of the strongest feelings. Since 
her mother’s death she had scarcely mentioned her 
name. When her father alluded to his wife, Hester 
ran out of the room ; when the servants spoke of 
their late mistress, Hester turned pale, stamped her 
fee^ and told them to be quiet. 

“You are not worthy to speak of my mother,” 
she electrified them all one day by exclaiming. “ My 
mother is an angel now, and you — oh, you are not fit 
to breathe her name ! ” 

Only to one person would Hetty ever voluntarily 
say a word about the beloved dead mother, and that 
was to little Nan. Nan said her prayers, as she ex- 
pressed it, to Hetty now ; and Hetty taught her a 
little phrase to use instead of the familiar “ God bless 
mother.” She taught the child to say, “ Thank God 
for making mother into a beautiful angel ; ” and when 
Nan asked what an angel was, and how the cosy 
mother she remembered could be turned into one, 


■ 


The Little Old Ladies, 13 

Hester was beguiled into a soft and tearful talk, 
and she drew several lovely pictures of white- 
robed angels, until the little child was satisfied and 
said — 

“ Me like that, Hetty — me’ll be angel too, Hetty, 
same as mamma.” 

These talks with Nan, however, did not come very 
often, and of late they had almost ceased, for Nan 
was only two and a half, and the strange sad fact 
remained that in three months she had almost for- 
gotten her mother. 

Hester on her way to school this morning cried 
for some time, then she sat silent, her crape veil still 
down, and her eyes watching furtively her fellow- 
passengers. They consisted of two rather fidgety 
old ladies, who wrapped themselves in rugs, were 
very particular on the question of hot bottles, and 
watched Hester in their turn with considerable 
curiosity and interest. Presently one of them offered 
the little girl a sandwich, which she was too proud or 
too shy to accept, although by this time she was 
feeling extremely hungry. 

“ You will, perhaps, prefer a cake, my dear ? ” said 
the good-natured little old lady. “ My sister Agnes 
has got some delicious queen-cakes in her basket — 
will you eat one ” 

Hester murmured a feeble assent, and the queen- 
cake did her so much good that she ventured to 
raise her crape veil and to look around her. 

“ Ah, that is much better,” said the first little old 
lady. “ Come to this side of the carriage, my love ; 
we are just going to pass through a lovely bit of 
country, and you will like to watch the view. See ; 
if you place yourself here, my sister Agnes’s basket 


/ 


14 


A World OF Girls. 


will be just at your feet, and you can help yourself to 
a queen-cake whenever you are so disposed ” 

“ Thank you,” responded Hester, in a much more 
cheerful tone, for it was really quite impossible to keep 
up reserve with such a bright-looking little old lady ; 
“your queen-cakes are very nice, and I liked that 
one, but one is quite enough, thank you. It is Nan 
who is so particularly fond of queen-cakes.” 

“ And who is Nan, my dear.?” asked the sister to 
whom the queen-cakes specially belonged. 

“ She is my dear little baby sister,” said Hester in 
a sorrov/ful tone. 

“Ah, and it was -about her you were crying just 
now,” said the first lady, laying her hand on Hester’s 
arm. “Never mind us, dear, we have seen a great 
many tears — a great many. They are the way of the 
world. Women are born to them. As Kingsley says 
— * women must weep.’ It was quite natural that you 
should cry about your sweet little Nan, and I wish 
we could send her some of these queen-cakes that 
you say she is so fond of. Are you going to be long 
away from her, love ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, for months and months,” said Hester. “I 
did not know,” she added, “ that it was such a common 
thing to cry. I never used to.” 

“ Ah, you have had other trouble, poor child,” 
glancing at her deep mourning frock. 

“ Yes, it is since then I have cried so often. 
Please, I would rather not speak about it.” 

“Quite right, my love, quite right,” said Miss 
Agnes in a much brisker tone than her sister. “ We 
will turn the conversation now to something in- 
spiriting. Jane is quite right, there are plenty of 
tears in the world ; but there is also a great deal of 


Like Other Young Folk' 


15 


sunshine and heaps of laughter, merry laughter — the 
laughter of youth, my child. Now, I dare say, though 
you have begun your journey so sadly, that you are 
really bound on quite a pleasant little expedition. 
For instance, you are going to visit a kind aunt, or 
some one else who will give you a delightful welcome.” 

“No,” said Hester, “ I am not. I am going to a 
dreadful place, and the thought of that, and parting 
from little Nan, are the reasons why I cried. I am 
going to prison — I am, indeed.” 

“ Oh, my dear love ! ” exclaimed both the little old 
ladies in a breath. Then Miss Agnes continued: “ You 
have really taken Jane’s breath away — quite. Yes, 
Jane, I see that you are in for an attack of palpitation. 
Never mind her, dear, she palpitates very easily ; but 
I think you must be mistaken, my love, in mentioning 
such an appalling word as ‘prison.’ Yes, now I come to 
think of it, it is absolutely certain that you must be 
mistaken ; for if you were going to such a terrible place 
of punishment you would be under the charge of a 
policeman. You are given to strong language, dear, 
like other young folk.” 

“ Well, I call it prison,” continued Hester, who was 
rather flattered by all this bustle and Miss Jane’s 
agitation ; “ it has a dreadful sound, hasn’t it > I call 
it prison, but father says I am going to school — you 
can’t wonder that I am crying, can you ? Oh ! what 
is the matter } ” 

For the two little old ladies jumped up at this 
juncture, and gave Hetty a kiss apiece on her soft 
young lips. 

“ My darling,” they both exclaimed, “ we are so 
relieved and delighted ! your strong language startled 
us, and school is anything but what you imagine, dear. 


1 6 A World of Girls. 

Ah, Jane! can you ever forget our happy days at 
school ? ” 

Miss Jane sighed and rolled up her eyes, and then 
the two commenced a vigorous catechising of the 
little girl. Really Hester could not help feeling 
almost sunshiny before that long journey came 
to an end, for she and the Misses Bruce made some 
delightful discoveries. The little old ladies very 
quickly found out that they lived close to the school 
where Hetty was to spend the next few months. They 
knew Mrs. Willis well — they knew the delightful ram- 
bling, old-fashioned house where Hester was to live — 
they even knew two or three of the scholars ; and they 
said so often to the little girl that she was going into 
a life of clover — positive clover — that she began to 
smile, and even partly to believe them. 

“ I am glad I shall be near you, at least,” she said 
at last, with a frank sweet smile, for she had greatly 
taken to her kind fellow-travellers. 

“Yes, my dear,” exclaimed Miss Jane. “ We at- 
tend the same church, and I shall look out for you 
on Sunday, and,” she continued, glancing first at her 
sister and then addressing Hester, “ perhaps Mrs. 
Willis will allow you to visit us occasionally.” 

“ ril come to-morrow, if you like,” said Hester. 

“ Well, dear, well — that must be as Mrs. Willis 
thinks best. Ah, here we are at Sefton at last. We 
shall look out for you in church on Sunday, my 
love.” 


V 


CHAPTER III. 

AT LAVENDER HOUSE. 

Hester’s journey had really proved wonderfully 
agreeable. She had taken a great fancy to the little 
old ladies who had fussed over her and made them- 
selves pleasant in her behalf. She felt herself some- 
thing like a heroine as she poured out a little, just a 
little, of her troubles into their sympathising ears ; and 
their cheerful remarks with regard to school and 
school-life had caused her to see clearly that there 
might be another and a brighter side to the gloomy 
picture she had drawn with regard to her future. 

But during the drive of two and a half miles from 
Sefton to Lavender House, Hester once more began 
to feel anxious and troubled. The Misses Bruce had 
gone off with some other passengers in a little omnibus 
to their small villa in the town, but Lavender House 
was some distance off, and the little omnibus never 
went so far. 

An old-fashioned carriage, which the ladies told 
Hester belonged to Mrs. Willis, had been sent to meet 
her, and a man whom the Misses Bruce addressed as 
“ Thomas ” helped to place her trunk and a small 
portmanteau on the roof of the vehicle. The little 
girl had to take her drive alone, and the rather ancient 
horse which drew the old carriage climbed up and 
down the steep roads in a most leisurely fashion. It 
was a cold winter’s day, and by the time Thomas had 
executed some commissions in Sefton, and had reached 
the gates of the avenue which led to Lavender House, 
B 


i8 


A World of Girls, 


it was very nearly dark. Hester trembled at the 
darkness, and when the gates were shut behind them 
by a rosy-faced urchin of ten, she once more began to 
feel the cruel and desolate idea that she was going to 
prison. 

They drove slowly down a long and winding 
avenue, and, although Hester could not see, she knew 
they must be passing under trees, for several times 
their branches made a noise against the roof of the 
carriage. At last they came to a standstill. The 
old servant scrambled slowly down from his seat on 
the box, and, opening the carriage-door, held out 
his hand to help the little stranger to alight. 

“ Come now, missy,” he said in cheering tones, 
come out, and you’ll be warm and snug in a minute. 
Dear, dear! I expect youTe nearly froze up, poor 
little miss, and it is a most bitter cold night.” 

He rang a bell which hung by the entrance 
of a deep porch, and the next moment the wide hall- 
door was flung open by a neat maid-servant, and 
Hester stepped within. 

“ She’s come,” exclaimed several voices in different 
keys, and proceeding apparently from different 
quarters. Hester looked around her in a half-startled 
way, but she could see no one, except the maid, who 
smiled at her and said — 

“ Welcome to Lavender House, miss. If you’ll 
step into the porter’s room for one moment, there is a 
good fire there, and I’ll acquaint Miss Danesbury 
that you have arrived.” 

The little room in question was at the right-hand 
side of a very wide and cheerful hall, which was 
decorated in pale tints of green, and had a handsome 
encaustic-tiled floor. A blazing fire and two lamps 


I Fear, a Little Sulky! 


19 


made the hall look cheerful, but Hester was very glad 
to take refuge from the unknown voices in the porter’s 
small room. She found herself quite trembling with 
shyness, and cold, and an indescribable longing to get 
back to Nan ; and as she waited for Miss Danesbury 
and wondered fearfully who or jvhat Miss Danesbury 
was, she scarcely derived any comfort from the blazing 
fire near which she stood. 

“ Rather tall for her age, but I fear, I greatly fear, 
a little sulky,” said a voice behind her ; and when she 
turned round in an agony of trepidation and terror, 
she suddenly found herself face to face with a tall, 
kind-looking, middle-aged lady, and also with a bright 
gipsy- looking girl. 

“ Annie Forest, how very naughty of you to hide 
behind the door ! You are guilty of disobedience in 
coming into this room without leave. I must report 
you, my dear ; yes, I really must. You lose two 
good conduct marks for this, and will probably have 
thirty lines in addition to your usual quantity of 
French poetry.” 

“ But she won’t tell on me, she won’t, dear old 
Danesbury,” said the girl ; “ she couldn’t be so hard- 
hearted, the precious love, particularly as curiosity 
happens to be one of her own special little virtues I 
Take a kiss, Danesbury, and now, as you love me 
you’ll be merciful 1 ” The girl flitted away, and Miss 
Danesbury turned to Hester, whose face had changed 
from red to pale during this little scene. 

What a horrid, vulgar, low-bred girl ! ” she ex- 
claimed with passion, for in all the experiences of her 
short life Hester had never even imagined that 
personal remarks could be made of any one in their 
veiy presence. “I hope she’ll get a lot of punishment 


20 


A World of Girls, 


— I hope you are not going to forgive her,” she con- 
tinued, for her anger had for the time quite overcome 
her shyness. 

“ Oh, my dear, my dear ! we should all be for- 
giving,” exclaimed Miss Danesbury in her gentle 
voice. “Welcome to Lavender House, love; I am 
sorry I was not in the hall to receive you. Had I 
been, this little rencontre would not have occurred. 
Annie Forest meant no harm, however — she’s a 
wild little sprite, but affectionate. You and she 
will be the best friends possible by-and-by. Now, 
let me take you to your room ; the gong for tea 
will sound in exactly five minutes, and I am sure 
you will be glad of something to eat.” 

Miss Danesbury then led Hester across the hall 
and up some broad, low, thickly-carpeted stairs. 
When they had ascended two flights, and were 
standing on a handsome landing, she paused. 

“ Do you see this baize door, dear ? ” she said. 
“This is the entrance to the school part of the house. 
This part that we are now in belongs exclusively to 
Mrs. Willis, and the girls are never allowed to come 
here without leave. All the school life is lived at the 
other side of this baize door, and a very happy life 
I assure you it is for those little girls who make up 
their minds to be brave and good. Now kiss me, my 
dear, and let me bid you welcome once again to 
Lavender House.” 

“ Are you our principal teacher, then ? ” asked 
Hester. 

“ I ? oh dear, no, my love. I teach the younger 
children English, and I look after the interests and 
comforts of all. I am a very useful sort of person, I 
believe, and I have a motherly heart, dear, and it is 


21 


Number 32 . 

a way with little girls to come to me when they are 
in trouble. Now, my love, we must not chatter any 
longer. Take my hand, and let us get to your room 
as fast as possible.” 

Miss Danesbury pushed open the baize door, and 
instantly Hester found herself in a different region. 
Mrs. Willises part of the house gave the impression of 
warmth, luxuriance, and even elegance of arrangement. 
At the other side of the door were long, narrow 
corridors, with snow-white, but carpetless floors, and 
rather cold, distempered walls. Miss Danesbury, 
holding the new pupil’s hand, led her down two 
corridors, and past a great number of shut doors, 
behind which Hester could hear suppressed laughter 
and eager, chattering voices. At last, however, they 
stopped at a door which had the number “ 32 ” 
written over it. 

“This is your bedroom, dear,” said the English 
teacher, “ and to-night you will not be sorry to have 
it alone. Mrs. Willis received a telegram from Susan 
Drummond, your room-mate, this afternoon, and she 
will not arrive until to-morrow.’^ 

However bare and even cold the corridors looked, 
the bedroom into which Hester was ushered by no 
means corresponded with this, appearance. It was a 
small, but daintily-furnished little room. The floor 
was carpeted with green felt, the one window was 
hung with pretty draperies, and two little, narrow, 
white beds were arranged gracefully with French 
canopies. All the furniture in the room was of a 
minute description, but good of its kind. Beside each 
bed stood a mahogany chest of drawers. At two 
corresponding corners were marble washhand-stands, 
and even two pretty toilet tables stood side by side 


22 


A World or Girls. 


in the recess of the window. But the sight that* 
perhaps pleased Hester most was a small bright fire 
which burnt in the grate. 

“ Now, dear, this is your room. As you have 
arrived first you can choose your own bed and your 
own chest of drawers. Ah, that is right, Ellen has 
unfastened your portmanteau ; she will unpack your 
trunk to-night, and take it to the box-room. Now, 
dear, smooth your hair and wash your hands. The 
gong will sound instantly. I will come for you when 
it does.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

LITTLE DRAWING-ROOMS AND LITTLE TIFFS. 

Miss Danesbury, true to her word, came to fetch 
Hester down to tea. They went down some broad 
carpetless stairs, along a widb stone hall, and then 
paused for an instant at a half-open door from which 
a stream of eager voices issued. 

“ I will introduce you to your school-fellows, and 
I hope your future friends,"’^ said Miss Danesbury. 
“ After tea you will come with me to. see Mrs. Willis 
— she is never in the school-room at tea-time. Mdlle. 
Perier or Miss Good usually superintends. Now, my 
dear, come along — why, surely you are not fright- 
ened ? 

“ Oh, please, may I sit near you } asked Hester. 

“ No, my love ; I take care of the little ones, and 
they are at a table by themselves. Now, come in at 
once — the moment you dread will soon be over, and 
it is nothing, my love — really nothing.'^ 


" She Sat in a Dream. 


23 


Nothing! never, as long as Hester lived, did she 
forget the supreme agony of terror and shyness which 
came over her as she entered that long, low, brightly- 
lighted room. The forty pairs of curious eyes which 
were raised inquisitively to her face became as tor- 
turing as forty burning suns. She felt an almost 
uncontrollable desire to run away and hide — 
she wondered if she could possibly keep from 
screaming aloud. In the end she found herself, she 
scarcely knew how, seated beside a gentle, sweet- 
mannered girl, and munching bread and butter which 
tasted drier than sawdust, and occasionally ' trying 
to sip something very hot and scalding which she 
vaguely understood went by the name of tea. The 
buzzing voices all chattering eagerly in French, and 
the occasional sharp, high-pitched reprimands coming 
in peremptory tones from the thin lips of Mdlle. 
Perier, sounded far off and distant — her head was 
dizzy, her eyes swam — the tired and shy child en- 
dured tortures. 

In after-days, in long after-years when the me- 
mory of Lavender House was to come back to Hetty 
Thornton as one of the sweetest, brightest episodes in 
her existence — in the days when she was to know 
almost every blade of grass in the gardens, and to 
be familiar with each corner of the old house, with 
each face which now appeared so strange, she might 
wonder at her feelings to-night, but never even then 
could she forget them. 

She sat at the table in a dream, trying to eat the 
tasteless bread and butter. Suddenly and swiftly 
the thick and somewhat stale piece of bread on her 
plate was exchanged for a thin, fresh, and delicately- 
cut slice. 


24 


A World of Girls, 


“ Eat that/^ whispered a voice — “ I know the other 
is horrid. It^s a shame of Perier to give such stuff to 
a stranger.'’"’ 

“ Mdlle. Cecile, you are transgressing : you are 
talking English/^ came in a torrent of rapid French 
from the head of the table. “ You lose a conduct 
mark, ma’amselle.” 

The young girl who sat next Hester inclined 
her head gently and submissively, and Hester, ven- 
turing to glance at her, saw that a delicate pink had 
spread itself over her pale face. She was a plain 
girl ; but even Hester, in this first moment of terror, 
could scarcely have been afraid of her, so benign was 
her expression, so sweet the glance from her soft, 
full brown eyes. Hester now further observed that 
the thin bread and butter had been removed from 
CeciPs own plate. She began to wonder why this 
girl was indulged with better food than the rest of her 
comrades. 

Hester was beginning to feel a little less shy, and 
was taking one or two furtive glances at her com- 
panions, when she suddenly felt herself turning crim- 
son, and all her agony of shyness and dislike to her 
school-life returning. She encountered the full, bright, 
quizzical gaze of the girl who had made personal 
remarks about her in the porteFs room. The merry 
black eyes of this gipsy maiden fairly twinkled 
with suppressed fun when they met hers, and the 
bright head even nodded audaciously across the table 
to her. 

Not for worlds would Hester return this friendly 
greeting — she still held to her opinion that Miss 
Forest was one of the most ill-bred people she 
had ever met, and, in addition to feeling a con- 


In the Play-room. 


25 


siderable, amount of fear of her, she quite made up 
her mind that she would never be on friendly terms 
with so underbred a girl. 

At this moment grace was repeated in sonorous 
tones by a stern-looking person who sat at the foot 
of the long table, and whom Hester had not before 
noticed. Instantly the girls rose from their seats, and 
began to file in orderly procession out of the tea- 
room. Hester looked round in terror for the friendly 
Miss Danesbury, but she could not catch sight of her 
anywhere. At this moment, however, her companion 
of the tea-table touched her arm. 

“We may speak English now for half an hour,” 
she said, “ and most of us are going to the play- 
room. We generally tell stories round the fire upon 
these dark winter’s nights. Would you like to come 
with me to-night } Shall we be chums for this 
evening 

“ I don’t know what ^ chums ^ are,” said Hester ; 
“ but,” she added, with the dawning of a faint smile 
op her poor, sad little face, “ I shall be very glad to 
go with you.” 

“ Come then,” said Cecil Temple, and she pulled 
Hester’s hand within her arm, and walked with her 
across the wide stone hall, and into the largest room 
Hester had ever seen. 

Never, anywhere, could there have been a more 
delightful playroom than this. It was so large that 
two great fires which burned at either end were not 
at all too much to emit even tolerable warmth. The 
room was bright with three or four lamps which were 
suspended from the ceiling, the floor was covered with 
matting, and the walls were divided into curious par- 
titions, which gave the room a peculiar but very cosy 


26 


A World of Girls. 


effect. These partitions consisted of large panels, and 
were divided by slender rails the one from the 
other. 

“ This is my cosy corner,” said Cecil, ** and you 
shall sit with me in it to-night You see,” she added, 
each of us girls has her own partition, and we can 
do exactly what we like in it We can put our own 
photographs, our own drawings, our own treasures on 
our panels. Under each division is our own little 
work-table, and, in fact, our own individual treasures 
lie round us in the enclosure of this dear little rail. 
The centre of the room is common property, and you 
see what a great space there is round each fire-place 
where we can chatter and talk, and be on common 
ground. The fire-place at the end of the room near 
the door is reserved especially for the little ones, but 
we elder girls sit at the top. Of course you will 
belong to us. How old are you ? ” 

“Twelve,” said Hester. 

“Oh, well, you are so tall that you cannot pos- 
sibly be put with the little ones, so you must come 
in with us.” 

“ And shall I have a railed-in division and a panel 
of my own .? ” asked Hester. “It sounds a very nice 
arrangement. I hope my department will be close to 
yours. Miss ? ” 

“Temple is my name,” said Cecil, “but you need 
not call me that. I am Cecil to all my friends, and 
you are my friend this evening, for you are my chum, 
you know. Oh, you were asking me about our 
departments — you won’t have any at first, for you 
have got to earn it, but I will invite you to mine 
pretty often. Come now, let us go inside. Is not it 
Just like the darlingest little drawing-room ? I am so 


Hasty Conclusions. 


V 


sorry that I have only one easy chair, but you shall 
have it to-night, and I will sit on this three-legged 
stool. I am saving up my money to buy another arm- 
chair, and Annie has promised to upholster it for me.” 

“ Is Annie one of the maids } ” 

" Oh, dear, no ! — she’s dear old Annie Forest, the 
liveliest girl in the school. Poor darling, she^s seldom 
out of hot water ; but we all love her, we can’t help it. 
Poor Annie, she hardly ever has the luxury of a 
department to herself, so she is useful all round. 
She’s the most amusing and good-natured dear pet 
in Christendom.” 

“ I don’t like her at all,” said Hester ; “ I did not 
know you were talking of her — she is a most rude, 
uncouth girl.” 

Cecil Temple, who had been arranging a small 
dark green table-cloth with daffodils worked artistic- 
ally in each corner on her little table, stood up as 
the newcomer uttered these words, and regarded her 
fixedly. 

“ It is a pity to draw hasty conclusions,” she said. 
“ There is . no girl more loved in the school than 
Annie Forest. Even the teachers, although they are 
always punishing her, cannot help having a soft 
corner in their hearts for her. What can she possibly 
have done to offend you ? — but oh ! — hush — don’t 
speak — she is coming into the room.” 

As Cecil finished her rather eager defence of her 
friend, and prevented the indignant words which were 
bubbling to Hester’s lips, a gay voice was heard sing- 
ing a comic song in the passage — the play-room door 
was flung open with a bang, hnd Miss Forest entered 
the room with a small girl seated on each of her 
shoulders. 


A World of Girls. 


2 % 


Hold on, Janny love ; keep your arms well round 
me, Mabel. Now then, here we go — twice up the 
room and down again. No more, as Tm alive. IVe 
got to attend to other matters than you.” 

She placed the little girls on the floor amid peals 
of laughter, and shouts from several little ones to give 
them a ride too. The children began to cling to her 
skirts and to drag her in all directions, and she finally 
escaped from them with one dexterous bound which 
placed her in that portion of the playroom where the 
little ones knew they were not allowed to enter. 

Until her arrival the different girls scattered about 
the large room had been more or less orderly, chatter- 
ing and laughing together, it is true, but in^ a quiet 
manner. Now the whole place appeared suddenly in 
an uproar. 

“ Annie, come here — Annie, darling, give me your 
opinion about this — Annie, my precious, naughty 
creature, come and tell me about your last scrape.^^ 

Annie Forest blew several kisses to her adorers, 
but did not attach herself to any of them. 

“The Temple requires me,^^ she said, in her 
sauciest tones ; “ my beloved friends, the Temple as 
usual is vouchsafing its sacred shelter to the stranger.” 

In an instant Annie was kneeling inside the 
enclosure of Miss Templets rail and laughing im- 
moderately. 

“You dear stranger \” she exclaimed, turning round 
and gazing full into HesteFs shy face, “ I do declare 
I have been punished for the intense ardour with 
which I longed to embrace yt>u. Has she told you, 
Cecil darling, what I did in her behalf ? How I ven- 
tured beyond the sacred precincts of the baize door 
and hid inside the porter^s room > Poor dear, she 













^•''1' ^rj; 




I Don't Understand You! 


29 


jumped when she heard my friendly voice, and as I 
spoke Miss Danesbury caught me in the very act. 
Poor old dear, she cried when she complained of me, 
but duty is Danesbury’s motto ; she would go to the 
stake for it, and I respect her immensely. I have 
got my twenty lines of that horrible French poetry to 
learn — the very thought almost strangles me, and I 
foresee plainly that I shall do something terribly 
naughty within the next few hours ; I must, my love 
— I really must. I have just come here to shake 
hands with Miss Thornton, and then I must away to 
my penance. Ah, how little I shall learn, and how 
hard I shall think ! Welcome to Lavender House, 
Miss Thornton ; look upon me as your devoted ally, 
and if you have a spark of pity in your breast, feel for 
the girl whom you got into a scrape the very moment 
you entered these sacred walls.'’^ 

“ I don’t understand you,” said Hester, who would 
not hold out her hand, and who was standing up in a 
very stiff, shy, and angular position. “ I think you 
were very rude to startle me, and make personal 
remarks the very moment I came into the house.” 

“ Oh, dear ! — I only said you were tall, and looked 
rather sulky, love — you did, you know, really.-^-’ 

“ It was very rude of you,^^ repeated Hester, 
turning crimson, and trying to keep back her tears. 

“ Well, my dear, I meant no harm ; shake hands, 
now, and let us make friends.’^ 

But Hester felt either too shy or too miserable to 
yield to this request — she half turned her back, and 
leaned against Miss Temple’s panel. 

“ Never mind her,” whispered gentle Cecil Temple ; 
but Annie Forest’s bright face had darkened ominously 
—the school favourite was not accustomed to having 




3o A World of Girls. 

her advances flung back in her face. She left the 
room singing a defiant, naughty song, and several of 
the girls who had overheard this scene whispered one 
to the other — 

“ She can’t be at all nice — she would not even 
shake hands with Annie. Fancy her turning against 
our Annie in that way ! ” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE HEAD-MISTRESS. 

Annie Forest had scarcely left the room before 
Miss Danesbury appeared with a message for Hester, 
who was to come with her directly to see Mrs. Willis. 
The poor shy girl felt only too glad to leave behind 
her the cruel, staring, and now by no means approving 
eyes of her school-mates. She had overheard several 
of their whispers, and felt rather alarmed at her own 
act. But Hester, shy as she was, could be very 
tenacious of an idea. She had taken a dislike to 
Annie Forest, and she was quite determined to be 
true to what she considered her convictions — namely, 
that Annie was underbred and common, and not at all 
the kind of girl whom her mother would have cared for 
her to know. The little girl followed Miss Danesbury 
in silence. They crossed the stone hall together, and 
now passing through another baize door, found them- 
selves once more in the handsome entrance-hall. 
They walked across this hall to a door carefully 
protected from all draughts by rich plush curtains, 
and Miss Danesbury, turning the handle, and going a 
step or two into the room, said in her gentle voice — 


“You ARE HER Child'' 3 1 

"I have brought Hester Thornton to see you, 
Mrs. Willis, according to your wish.” 

Miss Danesbury then withdrew, and Hester ven- 
tured to raise her eyes and to look timidly at the 
head-mistress. 

A tall woman, with a beautiful face and silvery 
white hair, came instantly to meet her, laid her two 
hands on the girl’s shoulders, and then, raising her 
shy little face, imprinted a kiss on her forehead. 

“Your mother was one of my earliest pupils, 
Hester,” she said, “ and you are — no — ” after a pause, 
“you are not very like her. You are her child, 
however, my dear, and as such you have a warm 
welcome from me. Now, come and sit by the fire, 
and let us talk.” 

Hester did not feel nearly so constrained with this 
graceful and gracious lady as she had done with her 
school-mates. The atmosphere of the room recalled 
her beloved mother’s boudoir at home. The rich, 
dove-coloured satin dress, the cap made of Mechlin 
lace which softened and shaded Mrs. Willis’s silvery 
hair, appeared homelike to the little girl, who had 
grown up accustomed to all the luxuries of wealth. 
Above all, the head-mistress’s mention of her mother 
drew her heart towards the beautiful face, and at- 
tracted her towards the rich, full tones of a voice 
which could be powerful and commanding at will. 
Mrs. Willis, notwithstanding her white hair, had a 
youthful face, and Hester made the comment which 
came first to her lips — 

“ I did not think you were old enough to have 
taught my mother.” 

“ I am sixty, dear, and I have kept this school for 
thirty years. Your mother was not the only pupil 


32 


A World op Girls. 


who sent her children to be taught by me when the 
time came. Now, you can sit on this stool by the fire 
and tell me about your home. Your mother — ah, 
poor child, you would rather not talk about her just 
yet. Helen’s daughter must have strong feelings — 
ah, yes ; I see, I see. Another time, darling, when you 
know me better. Now tell me about your little sister, 
and your father. You do not know, perhaps, that I 
am Nan^s godmother ? ” 

After this the head-mistress and the new pupil 
had a long conversation. Hester forgot her shyness ; 
her whole heart had gone out instantly to this 
beautiful woman who had known, and loved, and 
taught her mother. 

“ I will try to be good at school,” she said at last ; 
“ but, oh, please, Mrs. Willis, it does not seem to me 
to-night as if school-life could be happy.” 

“ It has its trials, Hester ; but the brave and the 
noble girls often find this time of discipline one of 
the best in their lives — good at the time, very good 
to look back on by-and-by. You will find a minia- 
ture world around you ; you will be surrounded by 
temptations ; and you will have rare chances of 
proving whether your character can be strong and 
great and true. I think, as a rule, my girls are 
happy, and as a rule they turn out well. The great 
motto of life here, Hester, is earnestness. We are 
earnest in our work, we are earnest in our play. A 
half-hearted girl has no chance at Lavender House. 
In play-time, laugh with the merriest, my child ; in 
school-hours, study with the most studious. Do you 
understand me?” 

“ I try to, a little,” said Hester, “ but it seems all 
very strange just now.” 


The School Favourite. 


33 


“No doubt it does, and at first you will have to 
encounter many perplexities and to fight many 
battles. Never mind, if you have the right spirit 
within you, you will come out on the winning side. 
Now, tell me, have you made any acquaintances as 
yet amongst the girls ? ” 

“ Yes — Cecil Temple has been kind to me.” 

“ Cecil is one of my dearest pupils ; cultivate her 
friendship, Hester— she is honourable, she is sympa- 
thising. I am not afraid to say that Cecil has a great 
heart.” 

“ There is another girl,” continued Hester, “ who 
has spoken to me. I need not make her my friend, 
need I ? ” 

“ Who is she, dear ? ” 

“ Miss Forest — I donT like her.” 

“What! our school favourite. You will change 
your mind, I expect — but that is the gong for 
prayers. You shall come with me to chapel, to- 
night, and I will introduce vou to Mr. Everard.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

“I AM UNHAPPY.” 

Between forty and fifty young girls assembled night 
and morning for prayers in the pretty chapel which 
adjoined Lavender House. This chapel had been 
reconstructed from the ruins of an ancient priory, on 
the site of which the house was built. The walls, 
and even the beautiful eastern window, belonged to 
a far-off date. The roof had been carefully reared 
in accordance with the style of the east window, and 
c 


34 


A World of Girls, 


the whole effect was beautiful and impressive. Mrs. 
Willis was particularly fond of her own chapel. Here 
she hoped the girls’ best lessons might be learnt, and 
here she had even once or twice brought a refractory 
pupil, and tried what a gentle word or two spoken in 
these old and sacred walls might effect. Here, on 
wet Sundays the girls assembled for service ; and 
here, every evening at nine o’clock, came the vicar 
of the large parish to which Lavender House belonged, 
to conduct evening prayers. He was an old man, 
and a great friend of Mrs. Willis’s, and he often told 
her that he considered these young girls some of the 
most important members of his flock. 

Here Hester knelt to-night. It is to be doubted 
whether in her confusion, and in the strange loneliness 
which even Mrs. Willis had scarcely removed, she 
prayed much. It is certain she did not join in the 
evening hymn, which, with the aid of an organ and 
some sweet girl-voices, was beautifully and almost 
pathetically rendered. After evening prayers had 
come to an end, Mrs. Willis took Hester’s hand and 
led her up to the old, white-headed vicar. 

“This is my new pupil, Mr. Everard, or rather 
I should say, our new pupil. Her education depends 
as much on you as on me.” 

The vicar held out his hands, and took Hester’s 
within them, and then drew her forward to the light. 

“This little face does not seem quite strange to 
me,” he said. “ Have I ever seen you before, my 
dear .? ” 

“ No, sir,” replied Hester. 

“ You have seen her mother,” said Mrs. Willis 
— “ Do you remember your favourite pupil, Helen 
A.nstey, of long ago ? ” 


**Ai^e you her Child 35 

“ Ah! indeed — indeed 1 I shall never forget Helen. 
And are you her child, little one ? ” 

But Hester’s face had grown white. The solemn 
service in the chapel, joined to all the excitement and 
anxieties of the day, had strung up her sensitive 
nerves to a pitch higher than she could endure. 
Suddenly, as the vicar spoke to her, and Mrs. Willis 
looked kindly down at her new pupil, the chapel 
seemed to reel round, the pupils one by one disap- 
peared, and the tired girl only saved herself from 
fainting by a sudden burst of tears. 

" Oh, I am unhappy,” she sobbed, “ without my 
mother ! Please, please, don’t talk to me about my 
mother.” 

She could scarcely take in the gentle words which 
her two friends said to her, and she hardly noticed 
when Mrs. Willis did such a wonderful thing as to 
stoop down and kiss a second time the lips of a new 
pupil. 

Finally she found herself consigned to Miss 
Danesbury’s care, who hurried her off to her room, 
and helped her to undress and tucked her into her 
little bed. 

“ Now, love, you shall have some hot gruel. No, 
not a word. You ate little or no tea, to-night — I 
watched you from my distant table. Half your 
loneliness is caused by want of food — I know it, my 
love; I am a very practical person. Now, eat 
your gruel, and then shut your eyes and go to 
sleep.” 

“You are very kind to me,” said Hester, “and so 
is Mrs. Willis, and so is Mr. Everard, and I like 
Cecil Temple — but, oh, I wish Annie Forest was not 
in the school 1 ” 

C 2 


3 ^ 


A World of Girls. 


“Hush, my dear, I implore of you. You pain me 
by these words. I* am quite confident that Annie 
will be your best friend yet.’’ 

Hester’s lips said nothing, but her eyes answered 
“ Never ” as plainly as eyes could speak. 


CHAPTER VH. 

A DAY AT SCHOOL. 

If Hester Thornton went to sleep that night under 
a sort of dreamy, hazy impression that school was a 
place without a great deal of order, with many kind 
and sympathising faces, and with some not so 
agreeable ; if she went to sleep under the im- 
pression that she had dropped into a sort of medley, 
that she had found herself in a vast new world 
where certain personages exercised undoubtedly 
a strong moral influence, but where on the whole a 
number of other people did pretty much what they 
pleased — she awoke in the morning to find her 
preconceived ideas scattered to the four winds. 

There was nothing of apparent liberty about the 
Lavender House arrangements in the early morning 
hours. In the first place, it seemed quite the middle 
of the night when Hester was awakened by a loud 
gong, which clanged through the house and caused 
her to sit up in bed in a considerable state of fright 
and perplexity. A moment or two later a neatly- 
dressed maid-servant came into the room with a can 
of hot water ; she lit a pair of candles on the mantel- 
piece, and, with the remark that the second gong 
would sound in half an hour, and that all the young 


Hester's Thoughts, 


37 


ladies would be expected to assemble in the chapel 
at seven o^clock precisely, she left the room. 

Hester pulled her pretty little gold watch from 
under her pillow, and saw with a sigh that it was now 
half-past six. 

“What odious hours they keep in this horrid 
place ! ” she said to herself; “ Well, well, I always did 
know that school would be unendurable.” 

She waited for five minutes before she got up, and 
then she dressed herself languidly, and, if’ the truth 
must be told, in a very untidy fashion. She managed 
to be dressed by the time the second gong sounded, 
but she had only one moment to give to her private 
prayers. She reflected, however, that this did not 
greatly matter as she was going down to prayers 
immediately in the chapel. 

The service in the chapel the night before had 
impressed her more deeply than she cared to own, 
and she followed her companions downstairs with a 
certain feeling of pleasure at the thought of again 
seeing Mr. Everard and Mrs. Willis. She wondered 
if they would take much notice of her this morning, 
and she thought it just possible that Mr. Everard, 
who had looked at her so compassionately the night 
before, might be induced, for the sake of his old 
friendship with her mother, to take her home with 
him to spend the day. She thought she would rather 
like to spend a day with Mr. Everard, and she fancied 
he was the sort of person who would influence her 
and help her to be good. Hester fancied that if some 
very interesting and quite out of the common person 
took her in hand, she might be formed into something 
extremely noble — noble enough even to forgive Annie 
Forest 


38 


A World of Girls. 


The girls all filed into the chapel, which was 
lighted as brightly and cheerily as the night before ; 
but Hester found herself placed on a bench far down 
in the building. She was no longer in the place of 
honour by Mrs. Willis’s side. She was one of a 
number, and no one looked particularly at her or 
noticed her in any way. A shy young curate read 
the morning prayers ; Mr. Everard was not present, 
and Mrs. Willis, who was, walked out of the chapel 
when prayers were over without even glancing in 
Hester’s direction. This was bad enough for the 
poor little dreamer of dreams, but worse was to 
follow. 

Mrs. Willis did not speak to Hester, but she did 
stop for an instant beside Annie Forest. Hester saw 
her lay her white hand on the young girl’s shoulder 
and whisper for an instant in her ear. Annie’s lovely 
gipsy face flushed a vivid crimson. 

“ For your sake, darling,” she whispered back ; but 
Hester caught the words, and was consumed by a 
fierce jealousy. 

The girls went into the school-room, where Mdlle. 
Perier gave a French lesson to the upper class. 
Hester belonged to no class at present, and could 
look around her, and have plenty of time to reflect on 
her own miseries, and particularly on what she now 
considered the favouritism shown by Mrs. Willis. 

“ Mr. Everard at least will read through that girl,” 
she said to herself ; “ he could not possibly endure 
any one so loud. Yes, I am sure that my only friend 
at home, Cecilia Day, would call Annie very loud. I 
wonder Mrs. Willis can endure her. Mrs. Willis seems 

so ladylike Ferself, but Oh, I beg your pardon, 

what’s the matter ? ” 


School and Play. 


39 

A very sharp voice had addressed itself to the idle 
Hester. 

“ But, mademoiselle, you are doing nothing ! This 
cannot for a moment be permitted. Pardonnez-moi, 
you know not the French } Here is a little easy 
lesson. Study, it mademoiselle, and don’t let your 
eyes wander a moment from the page.” 

Hester favoured Mdlle. Perier with a look of lofty 
contempt, but she received the well-thumbed lesson- 
book in absolute silence. 

At eight o’clock came breakfast, which was nicely 
served, and was very good and abundant. Hester was 
thoroughly hungry this morning, and did not feel so 
shy as the night before. She found herself seated 
between two strange girls, who talked to her a little 
and would have made themselves friendly had she at 
all encouraged them to do so. After breakfast came 
half an hour’s recreation, when, the weather being very 
bad, the girls again assembled in the cosy play-room. 
Hester looked round eagerly for Cecil Temple, who 
greeted her with a kind smile, but did not ask her 
into her enclosure. Annie Forest was not present, 
and Hester breathed a sigh of relief at her absence. 
The half-hour devoted to recreation proved rather 
dull to the new-comer. Hester could not understand 
her present world. To the girl who had been brought 
up practically as an only child in the warm shelter of 
a home, the ways and doings of school-girl life were 
an absolute enigma. 

Hester had no idea of unbending or of making 
herself agreeable. The girls voted her to one another 
stiff and tiresome, and quickly left her to her own 
devices. She looked longingly at Cecil Temple ; but 
Cecil, who could never be knowingly unkind to any 


40 


A World of Girls. 


one, was seizing the precious moments to write a letter 
to her father, and Hester presently wandered down 
the room and tried to take an interest in the little 
ones. From twelve to fifteen quite little children 
were in the school, and Hester wondered with a sort 
of vague half-pain if she might see any child amongst 
the group the least like Nan. 

“They will like to have me with them,” she said to 
herself. “ Poor little dots, they always like big girls 
to notice them, and didn’t they make a fuss about 
Miss Forest last night ! Well, Nan is fond enough of 
me, and little children find out so quickly what one is 
really like.” 

Hester walked boldly into the group. The little 
dots were all as busy as bees, were not the least 
lonely, or the least shy, and very plainly gave the 
intruder to understand that they would prefer her 
room to her company. Hester was not proud with 
little children — she loved them dearly. Some of the 
smaller ones in question were beautiful little creatures, 
and her heart warmed to them for Nan’s sake. She 
could not stoop to conciliate the older girls, but she 
could make an effort with the babies. She knelt on 
the floor and took up a headless doll. 

“ I know a little girl who had a doll like that,” 
she said. Here she paused and several pairs of eyes 
were fixed on her. 

“ Poor dolly’s b’oke,” said the owner of the head- 
less one in a tone of deep commiseration. 

“You are such a breaker, you know, Annie,” said 
Annie’s little five-year-old sister. 

“ Please tell us about the little girl what had the 
doll wifout the head,” she proceeded, glancing at 
Hester, 


“ Who Wants the Fairy Queens' 41 

** Oh, it was taken to a hospital, and got back its 
head,” said Hester quite cheerfully ; “ it became quite 
well again, and was a more beautiful doll than ever.” 

This announcement caused intense wonder and 
was certainly carrying the interest of all the little 
ones. Hester was deciding that the child who pos- 
sessed the headless doll had a look of Nan about 
her dark brown eyes, when suddenly there was a 
diversion — the play-room door was opened noisily, 
banged-to with a very loud report, and a gay voice 
sang out — 

“ The fairy queen has just paid me a visit. Who 
wants sweeties from the fairy queen } ” 

Instantly all the little feet had scrambled to the 
perpendicular, each pair of hands was clapped noisily, 
each little throat shouted a joyful — 

“ Here comes Annie ! ” 

Annie Forest was surrounded, and Hester knelt 
alone on the hearth-rug. 

She felt herself colouring painfully — she did not 
fail to observe that two laughing eyes had fixed them- 
selves with a momentary triumph on her face ; then, 
snatching up a book, which happened to lie close, 
she seated herself with her back to all the girls, and 
her head bent over the page. It is quite doubtful 
whether she saw any of the words, but she was at 
least determined not to cry. 

The half-hour so wearisome to poor Hester came 
to an end, and the girls, conducted by Miss Danes- 
bury, filed into the school-room and took their places 
in the different classes. 

Work had now begun in serious earnest. The 
school-room presented an animated and busy scene. 
The young faces with their varying expressions 


42 , 


A World of Girls. 


betokened on the whole the preponderance of an 
earnest spirit. Discipline, not too severe, reigned 
triumphant. 

Hester was not yet appointed to any place 
amongst these busy workers, but while she stood 
wondering, a little confused, and half intending to 
drop into an empty seat which happened to be close, 
Miss Danesbury came up to her. 

“ Follow me. Miss Thornton,” she said, and she 
conducted the young girl up the whole length of the 
great school-room, and pushed aside some baize 
curtains which concealed a second smaller room, 
where Mrs. Willis sat before a desk. 

The head-mistress was no longer dressed in soft 
pearl-grey and Mechlin lace. She wore a black silk 
dress, and her white cap seemed to Hester to add a 
severe tone to her features. She neither shook hands 
with the new pupil nor kissed her, but said instantly 
in a bright though authoritative tone — 

I must now find out as quickly as possible what 
you know, Hester, in order to place you in the most 
suitable class.” 

Hester was a clever girl, and passed through 
the ordeal of a rather stiff examination with con- 
siderable ability. Mrs. Willis prononounced her 
English and general information quite up to the 
usual standard for girls of her age — her French 
was deficient, but she showed some talent for Ger- 
man. 

“ On the whole I am pleased with your general 
intelligence, and I think you have good capacities 
Hester,” she said in conclusion. " I shall ask Miss 
Good, our very accomplished English teacher, to 
place you in the third class. You will have to work 


School Rules, 


43 


' ■'' ‘ ■ V' 


very hard, however, at your French, to maintain your 
place there. But Mdlle. Perier is kind and pains- 
taking, and it rests with yourself to quickly acquire 
a conversational acquaintance with the language. 
You are aware that, except during recreation, you 
are never allowed to speak in any other tongue. Now, 
go back to the school-room, my dear.” 

As Mrs. Willis spoke she laid her finger on a little 
silver gong which stood by her side. 

“ One moment, please,-” said Hester, colouring 
crimson, “ I want to ask you a question, please.” 

“ Is it about your lessons ? ” 

No — oh, no ; it is ” 

“ Then pardon me, my dear,’^ uttered the gover- 
ness, “ I sit in my room every evening from eight to 
half-past, and I am then at liberty to see a pupil 
on any subject which is not trifling. Nothing but 
lessons are spoken of in lesson hours, Hester. Ah, 
here comes Miss Good. Miss Good, I should wish 
you to place Hester Thornton in the third class. 
Her English is up to the average. I will see Mdlle. 
Porier about her at twelve o’clock.” 

Hester followed the English teacher into the great 
school-room, took her place in the third class, at the 
desk which was pointed out to her, was given a pile 
of new books, and was asked to attend to the history 
lesson which was then going on. 

Notwithstanding her confusion, a certain sense 
of soreness, and some indignation at what she con- 
sidered Mrs. Willis’s altered manner, she acquitted 
herself with considerable spirit, and was pleased to 
see that her class companions regarded her with some 
respect. 

An English literature lecture followed the history, 


44 


A World of Girls. 


and here again Hester acquitted herself with Mat. 
The subject to-day was “Julius Caesar,” and Hester 
had read Shakespeare’s play over many times with 
her mother. 

But when the hour came for foreign languages, 
her brief triumph ceased. Lower and lower did 
she fall in her school-fellows’ estimation, as she 
stumbled through her truly English-French. Mdlle. 
Perier, who was a very fiery little woman, almost 
screamed at her — the girls coloured and nearly tit- 
tered. Hester hoped to recover her lost laurels in 
German, but by this time her head ached, and she did 
very little better in the German which she loved than 
in the French which she detested. At twelve o^clock 
she was relieved to find that school was over for the 
present, and she heard the English teacher’s voice 
desiring the girls to go quickly to their rooms, and to 
assemble in five minutes’ time in the great stone hall, 
equipped for their walk. 

The walk lasted for a little over an hour, and was 
a very dreary penance to poor Hester, as she was 
neither allowed to run, race, nor talk a word of 
English. She sighed heavily once or twice, and 
several of the girls who looked at her curiously 
agreed with Annie Forest that she was decidedly 
sulky. The walk was followed by dinner ; then came 
half an hour of recreation in the delightful play-room, 
and eager chattering in the English tongue. 

At three o’clock the school assembled once more ; 
but now the studies were of a less severe character, 
and Hester spent one of her first happy half-hours 
over a drawing lesson. She had a great love for 
drawing, and felt some pride in the really beautiful 
copy which she was making of the stump of an old 


A Copy IN OuTUNp, 


45 


gnarled oak-tree. Her dismay, however, was pro- 
portionately great when the drawing-master drew his 
pencil right across her copy. 

“ I particularly requested you not to sketch in any 
of the shadows. Miss Thornton. Did you not hear 
me say that my lesson to-day was in outline } I gave 
you a shaded piece to copy in outline — did you not 
understand ? ” 

" This is my first day at school,” whispered back 
poor Hester, speaking in English in her distress. 
Whereupon the master smiled, and even forgot to 
report her for her transgression of the French tongue. 

Hester spent the rest of that afternoon over her 
music lesson. The music-master was an irascible 
little German, but Hester played with some taste, 
and was therefore not too severely rapped over the 
knuckles. 

Then came tea and another half-hour of recrea- 
tion, which was followed by two silent hours in the 
school-room, each girl bent busily over her books in 
preparation for the next day’s work. Hester studied 
hard, for she had made up her mind to be the intel- 
lectual prodigy of the school. Even on this first day, 
miserable as it was, she had won a few plaudits for 
her quickness and powers of observation. How 
much better could she work when she had really 
fallen into the tone of the school, and understood the 
lessons which she was now so carefully preparing ! 
During her busy day she had failed to notice one 
thing : namely, the absence of Annie Forest. Annie 
had not been in the school-room, had not been in the 
play-room ; but now, as the clock struck eight, she 
entered the school-room with a listless expression, and 
took her place in the same class with Hester. Her 


46 


A World of Girls. 


eyes were heavy, as if she had been crying, and when 
a companion touched her, and gave her a sympa- 
thising glance, she shook her head with a sorrowful 
gesture, but did not speak. Glasses of milk and 
slices of bread and butter were now handed round 
to the girls, and Miss Danesbury asked if any one 
would like to see Mrs. Willis before prayers. Hester 
half sprang to her feet, but then sat down again. 
Mrs. Willis had annoyed her by refusing to break 
her rules and answer her question during lesson 
hours. No, the silly child resolved that she would 
not trouble Mrs. Willis now. 

“No one to-night, then ? ” said Miss Danesbury, 
who had noticed Hester’s movement. 

Suddenly Annie Forest sprang to her feet. 

“ Fm going. Miss Danesbury,” she said. “You 
need not show -me the way ; I can find it alone.” 

With her short, curly hair falling about her face, 
she ran out of the room. 


CHAPTER VHI. 

^‘YOU HAVE WAKED ME TOO SOON.” 

When Hester reached her bedroom after prayers on 
that second evening, she was dismayed to find that 
she no longer could consider the pretty little bedroom 
her own. It had not only an occupant, but an occu- 
pant who had left untidy traces of her presence on 
the floor, for a stocking lay in one direction and a 
muddy boot sprawled in another. The new-comer had 
herself got into bed, where she lay with a quantity of 
red hair tossed about on the pillow, and a heavy 


The New School-mate. 47 

freckled face turned upwards, with the eyes shut and 
the mouth slightly open. 

As Hester entered the room, from these parted 
lips came unmistakable and loud snores. She stood 
still dismayed. 

“ How terrible ! ” she said to herself — “ oh, what a 
girl ! and I cannot sleep in the room with any one 
who snores — I really cannot ! 

She stood perfectly still, with her hands clasped 
before her, and her eyes fixed with almost ludicrous 
dismay on this unexpected trial. As she gazed, a 
fresh discovery caused her to utter an exclamation of 
horror aloud. 

The new-comer had curled herself up comfortably 
in her bed. Suddenly, to her surprise, a voice said 
very quietly, without a flicker of expression coming 
over the calm face, or the eyes even making an effort 
to open — 

“ Are you my new school-mate } ” 

“Yes,” said Hester, “ I am sorry to say I am.” 

“ Oh, donT be sorry, there^s a good creature ; 
there’s nothing to be sorry about. I’ll stop snoring 
when I turn on my side — it’s all right. I always snore 
for half an hour to rest my back, and the time is 
nearly up. DonT trouble me to open my eyes, I am 
not the least curious to see you. You have a cross 
voice, but you’ll get used to me after a bit.” 

“ But you’re in my bed,” said Hester. “ Will you 
please to get into your own ? ” 

“ Oh, no, don’t ask me ; 1 like your bed best. I 
slept in it the whole of last term. I changed the 
sheets myself, so it does not matter. Do you mind 
putting my muddy boots outside the door, and folding 
up my stockings ? I forgot them, and I shall have a 


A World of Girls. 


48 

bad mark if Danesbury comes in. Good night — I’m 
turning on my side — I won’t snore any more.” 

The heavy face was now only seen in profile, and 
Hester, knowing that Miss Danesbury would soon 
appear to put out the candle, had to hurry into the 
other bed as fast as she could ; something impelled 
her, however, to take up the muddy boots with two 
very gingerly fingers, and place them outside the door. 

She slept better this second rright, and was not 
quite so startled the next morning when the remorse- 
less gong aroused her from slumber. The maid- 
servant came in as usual to light the candles, and to 
place two cans of hot water by the two wash-hand 
stands. 

“ You are awake, miss ? ” she said to Hester. 

“ Oh, yes,” replied Hester almost cheerfully. 

“Well, that’s all right,” said the servant. “ Now I 
must try and rouse Miss Drummond, and she always 
takes a deal of waking ; and if you don’t mind, miss, it 
will be an act of kindness to call out to her in the 
middle of your own dressing — that is, if I don’t wake 
her effectual.” 

With these words, the housemaid approached the 
bed where the red-haired girl lay again on her back, 
and again snoring loudly. 

“ Miss Drummond, wake, miss ; it’s half-past six. 
Wake up, miss — I have brought your hot water.” 

“ Eh ? — what ? ” said the voice in the bed sleepily , 
“ don’t bother me, Hannah — I — I’ve determined not 
to ride this morning; go away — ’’then more sleepily, 
and in a lower key, “ Tell Percy he can’t bring the 
dogs in here.” 

“ I ain’t neither your Hannah, nor your Percy, nor 
one of the dogs,” replied the rather irate Alice — 


A Remedy for Sleepiness. 


49 


“ There, get up, miss, do. I never see such a young 
lady for sleeping, never.” 

“ I wonT be bothered,” said the occupant of the 
bed, and now she turned deliberately on her side and 
snored more loudly than ever. 

“ There’s no help for it,” said Alice : “ I have to 
do it nearly every morning, so don’t you be startled, 
miss. Poor thing, she would never have a good 
conduct mark but for me. Now then, here goes. 
You needn’t be frightened, miss — she don’t mind it 
the least bit in the world.” 

Here Alice seized a rough Turkish towel, placed 
it under the sleepy head with its shock of red hair, 
and, dipping a sponge in a basin of icy cold water, 
dashed it on the white face. 

This remedy proved effectual : two large pale blue 
eyes opened wide, a voice said in a tranquil and un- 
moved tone — 

“ Oh, thank you, Alice. So I’m back at this 
horrid, detestable school again ? ” 

“ Get your feet well on the carpet. Miss Drum- 
mond, before you falls off again,” said the servant. 
“Now then, you’d better get dressed as fast as pos- 
sible, miss — you have lost five minutes already."” 

Hester, who had laughed immoderately during this 
little scene, ’was already up and going through the 
processes of her toilet. Miss Drummond, seated on 
the edge of her bed, regarded her with sleepy eyes. 

“ So you are my new room-mate } ” she said— 
“ What’s your name ?” 

“ Hester Thornton,” replied Hetty with dignity. 

“ Oh — I’m Susy Drummond — you may call me 
Susy if you like.’^ 

Hester made no response to this gracious invitatioa 

D 


50 


A World of Girls. 


Miss Drummond sat motionless, gazing down at 
her toes. 

Had not you better get dressed } ” said Hester 
after a long pause, for she really feared the young 
lady would fall asleep where she was sitting. 

Miss Drummond started. 

“ Dressed ! So I will, dear creature. Have the 
sweet goodness to hand me my clothes.” 

“Where are they?” asked Hester rather crossly, 
for she did not care to act as lady’s-maid. 

“ They are over there, on a chair, in that lovely 
heap with a shawl flung over them. There, toss them 
this way — I’ll get into them somehow.” 

Miss Drummond did manage to get into her 
garments ; but her whole appearance was so heavy 
and untidy when she was dressed, that Hester by the 
very force of contrast felt obliged to take extra pains 
with her own toilet. 

“ Now, that’s a comfort,” said Susan, “ I’m in my 
clothes. How bitter it is ! There’s one comfort, the 
chapel will be warm. I often catch forty winks in 
chapel — that is, if I’m lucky enough to get behind 
one of the tall girls, where Mrs. Willis won’t see me. 
It does seem to me,” continued Susan in a meditative 
tone, “ the strangest thing why girls are not allowed 
sleep enough.” 

Hester was pinning a clean collar round her neck 
when Miss Drummond came up close, leant over 
the dressing-table, and regarded her with languid 
curiosity. 

“ A penny for your thoughts. Miss Prunes and 
Prism.” 

“ Why do you call me that ? ” said Hester angrily. 

“Because you look like it, sweet. Now, don’t be 


* Sleepy Susy Drummond!' 51 

cross, little pet — no one over yet was cross with 
sleepy Susy Drummond. Now, tell me, love, what 
had you for breakfast yesterday ? ” 

“ I’m sure I forget,” said Hester. 

“You forgef^ — how extraordinary! You’re sure 
that it was not buttered scones ? We have them 
sometimes, and I tell you they are enough even 
to keep a girl awake. Well, at least you can let me 
know if the eggs were very stale, and the coffee very 
weak, and whether the butter was second-rate Dorset, 
or good and fresh. Come now — my breakfast is oi 
immense importance to me, I assure you.” 

“ I dare say,” answered Hester. “ You can see 
for yourself this morning what is on the table — I can 
only inform you that it was good enough for nie, and 
that I don’t remember what it was.” 

“ Oh, dear 1 ” exclaimed Susan Drummond, “ I’m 
afraid she has a little temper of her own — poor little 
room-mate. I wonder if chocolate-creams would 
sweeten that little temper ? ” 

“ Please don’t talk — I’m going to say my prayers,” 
said Hester. 

She did kneel down, and made a slight effort to ask 
God to help her through the day’s work and the day’s 
play. In consequence, she rose from her knees with 
a feeling of strength and sweetness which even the 
feeblest prayer when uttered in earnest can always 
give. 

The prayer-gong now sounded, and all the girls 
assembled in the chapel. Miss Drummond was 
greeted by many appreciative nods, and more than 
one pair of longing eyes gazed in the direction of her 
pockets, which stuck out in the most ungainly fashion. 

Hester was relieved to find that her room-mate 
D 2 


52 


A World of Girls. 


did not share her class in school, nor sit anywhere 
near her at table. 

When the half-hour^s recreation after breakfast 
arrived, Hester, determined to be beholden to none of 
her school-mates for companionship, seated herself 
comfortably in an easy chair, with a new book. 
Presently she was startled by a little stream of lolli- 
pops falling in a shower over her head, down her 
neck, and into her lap. She started up with an 
expression of disgust. Instantly Miss Drummond 
sank into the vacated chair. 

“ Thank you, love,” she said, in a cosy, purring 
voice. “ Eat your lollipops, and look at me ; I’m 
going to sleep. Please pull my toe when Danesbury 
comes in. Oh, fie ! Prunes and Prisms — not so cross 
— eat your lollipops ; they will sweeten the expression 
of that — little — face.” 

The last words came out drowsily. As she said 
“ face,” Miss Drummond’s languid eyes were closed — 
she was fast asleep. 


CHAPTER IX, 

WORK AND PLAY. 

In a few days Hester was accustomed to her new 
life. She fell into its routine, and in a certain 
measure won the respect of her fellow-pupils. She 
worked hard, and kept her place in class, and her 
French became a little more like the French tongue 
and a little less like the English. She showed marked 
ability in many of her other studies, and the mistresses 
and masters spoke well of her. After a fortnight 


Mj^s. Willis's Ideas, 


53 


spent at Lavender House, Hester had to acknowledge 
that the little Misses Bruce were right, and that school 
might be a really enjoyable place for some girls. She 
would not yet admit that it could be enjoyable for 
her. Hester was too shy, too proud, too exacting to 
be popular with her school-fellows. She knew nothing 
of school-girl life — she had never learned the great 
secret of success in all lifers perplexities, the power to 
give and take. It never occurred to Hester to look 
over a hasty word, to take no notice of an envious or 
insolent look. As far as her lessons were concerned, 
she was doing well ; but the hardest lesson of all, the 
training of mind and character, which the daily com- 
panionship of her school-fellows alone could give her, 
in this lesson she was making no way. Each day 
she was shutting herself up more and more from all 
kindly advances, and the only one in the school whom 
she sincerely and cordially liked was gentle Cecil 
Temple. 

Mrs. Willis had some ideas with regard to the 
training of her young people which were peculiarly 
her own. She had found them successful, and, during 
her thirty years’ experience, had never seen reason to 
alter them. She was determined to give her girls a 
great deal more liberty than was accorded in most of 
the boarding-schools of her day. She never made 
what she called impossible rules ; she allowed the 
girls full liberty to chatter in their bedrooms ; she did 
not watch them during play-hours ; she never read 
the letters they received, and only superintended the 
specimen home letter which each girl was required to 
write once a month. Other head-mistresses wondered 
at the latitude she allowed her girls, but she invariably 
replied — 


54 


A World of Girls. 


“I always find it works best to trust them. If a 
girl is found to be utterly untrustworthy, I don’t expel 
her, but I request her parents to remove her to a 
more strict school.” 

Mrs. Willis also believed much in that quiet half- 
hour each evening, when the girls who cared to come 
could talk to her alone. On these occasions she 
always dropped the school-mistress and adopted the 
IV le of the mother. With a very refractory pupil she 
spoke in the tenderest tones of remonstrance and 
affection at these times. If her words failed — if the 
discipline of the day and the gentle sympathy of these 
moments at night did not effect their purpose, she 
had yet another expedient — the vicar was asked 
to see the girl who would not yield to this motherly 
influence. 

Mr. Everard had very seldom taken Mrs. Willis’s 
place. As he said to her, “ Your influence must be 
the mainspring. At supreme moments I will help 
you with personal influence, but otherwise, except for 
my nightly prayers with your girls, and my weekly 
class, and the teachings which they with others hear 
from my lips Sunday after Sunday, they had better 
look to you.” 

The girls knew this rule well, and the one or two 
rare instances in the school history where the vicar 
had stepped in to interfere, were spoken of with bated 
breath and with intense awe. 

Mrs. Willis had a great idea of bringing as much 
happiness as possible into young lives. It was with 
this idea that she had the quaint little compartments 
railed off in the play-room. 

“ For the elder girls,” she would say, there is no 
pleasure so great as having, howqver small the spot, a 


The Little Drawing-rooms. 55 

little liberty hall of their own. In her compartment 
each girl is absolute monarch. No one can enter 
inside the little curtained rail without her permission. 
Here she can show her individual taste, her individual 
ideas. Here, she can keep her most prized possessions. 
In short, her compartment in the play-room is a little 
home to her.'’^ 

The play-room, large as it was, admitted of only 
twenty compartments ; these compartments were not 
easily won. No amount of cleverness attained them ; 
they were altogether dependent on conduct. No girl 
could be the honourable owner of her own little 
drawing-room until she had distinguished herself 
by some special act of kindness and self-denial. Mrs. 
Willis had no fixed rule on this subject. She alone 
gave away the compartments, and she often made 
choice of girls on whom she conferred this honour 
in a way which rather puzzled and surprised their 
fellows. 

When the compartment was won it was not a 
secure possession. To retain it depended also on 
conduct ; and here again Mrs. Willis was absolute in 
her sway. More than once the girls had entered the 
room in the morning to find some favourite’s furni- 
ture removed and her little possessions taken carefully 
down from the walls, the girl herself alone know- 
ing the reason for this sudden change. Annie Forest, 
who had been at Lavender House for four years, 
had once, for a solitary month of her existence, owned 
her own special drawing-room. She had obtained it 
as a reward for an act of heroism. One of the little 
pupils had set her pinafore on fire. There was no 
teacher present at the moment — the other girls had 
screamed and run for help, but Annie, very pale, had 


A World of Girls. 


caught the little one in her arms and had crushed out 
the flames with her own hands. The child’s life wa.s 
spared, the child was not even hurt, but Annie was 
in hospital for a week. At the end of a week she 
returned to the school-room and play- room as the 
heroine of the hour. Mrs. Willis herself kissed her 
brow, and presented her in the midst of the approving 
smiles of her companions with the prettiest drawing- 
room of the sets. Annie retained her honourable 
post for one month. 

Never did the girls of Lavender House forget the 
delights of that month. The fantastic arrangements 
of the little drawing-room filled them with ecstasies. 
Annie was truly Japanese in her style — she was also 
intensely liberal in all her arrangements. In the tiny 
space of this little enclosure wild pranks were per- 
petrated, ceaseless jokes made up. From Annie’s 
drawing-room issued peals of exquisite mirth. She 
gave afternoon tea from a Japanese set of tea-things. 
Outside her drawing-room always collected a crowd of 
girls, who tried to peep over the rail or to draw aside 
the curtains. Inside the sacred spot certainly reigned 
chaos, and one day Miss Danesbury had to fly to the 
rescue, for in a fit of mad mirth Annie herself had 
knocked down the little Japanese tea-table, the tea- 
pot and tea-things were in fragments on the floor, and 
the tea and milk poured in streams outside the 
curtains. Mrs. Willis sent for Annie that evening, and 
Miss Forest retired from her interview with red eyes 
and a meek expression. 

“ Girls,” she said, in confidence that night, “ good- 
bye to Japan. I gave her leave to do it — the care 
of an empire is more than I can manage.” 

The next day the Japanese drawing-room had 


The Shortest Dav m the Weeh. 57 

been handed over to another possessor, and Annie 
reigned as queen over her empire no more. 

Mrs. Willis, anxious at all times that her girls 
should be happy, made special arrangements for 
their benefit on Sunday. Sunday was by no means 
dull at Lavender House — Sunday was totally unlike 
the six days which followed it. Even the stupidest 
girl could scarcely complain of the severity of 
Sunday lessons — even the merriest girl could scarcely 
speak of the day as dull. Mrs. Willis made an 
invariable rule of spending all Sunday with her 
pupils. On this day she really unbent — on this 
day she was all during the long hours, what 
she was during the short half-hour on each even- 
ing in the week. On Sunday she neither re- 
proved nor corrected. If punishment or correction 
were necessary, she deputed Miss Good or Miss 
Danesbury to take her place. On Sunday she 
sat with the little children round her knee, and the 
older girls clustering about her. Her gracious and 
motherly face was like a sun shining in the midst of 
these young girls. In short, she was like the personi- 
fied form of Goodness in their midst. It was neces- 
sary therefore that all those who wished to do right 
should be happy on Sunday, and only those few 
who deliberately preferred evil should shrink from 
the brightness of this day. 

It is astonishing how much a sympathising and 
guiding spirit can effect. The girls at Lavender 
House thought Sunday the shortest day in the week. 
There were no unoccupied or dull moments — school 
toil was forgotten — school punishment ceased, to be 
resumed again if necessary on Monday morning. 
The girls in their best dresses could chatter freely in 


58 A World of Girls, 

English — they could read their favourite books — they 
could wander about the house as they pleased : for on 
Sunday the two baize doors were always wide open, 
and Mrs. Willis’s own private suite of rooms was ready 
to receive them. If the day was fine they walked to 
church, each choosing her own companion for the 
pleasant walk ; if the day was wet there was service 
in the chapel, Mr. Everard always conducting either 
morning or evening prayers. In the afternoon the 
girls were allowed to do pretty much as they pleased, 
but after tea there always came a delightful hour, 
when the elder girls retired with their mistress into 
her own special boudoir, and she either told them 
stories or sang to them as only she could sing. 
At sixty years of age Mrs. Willis still possessed the 
most sympathetic and touching voice those girls had 
ever listened to. Hester Thornton broke down com- 
pletely on her first Sunday at Lavender House when 
she heard her schoolmistress sing “ The Better Land.” 
No one remarked on her tears, but two people saw 
them ; for her mistress kissed her tenderly that night, 
and said a few strong words of help and encourage- 
ment, and Annie Forest, who made no comment, had 
also seen them, and wondered vaguely if this new and 
disagreeable pupil had a heart after all. 

On Sunday night Mrs. Willis herself went round 
to each little bed and gave a mother-kiss to each of 
her pupils — a mother-kiss and a murmured blessing ; 
and in many breasts resolves were then formed which 
were to help the girls through the coming week. 
Some of these resolves, made not in their own strength, 
bore fruit in long after-years. There is no doubt that 
very few girls who lived long enough at Lavender 
House ever in after-days found their Sundays dull. 


VARIETIES. 


Without any doubt, wild, naughty, impulsive Annie 
Forest was the most popular girl in the school. She 
was always in scrapes — she was scarcely ever out of 
hot water — her promises of amendment were truly 
like the proverbial pie-crust; but she was so lovable, 
so kind-hearted, so saucy and piquante and pretty, 
that very few could resist the nameless charm which 
she possessed. The little ones adored Annie, who was 
kindness itself to them ; the bigger girls could not help 
admiring her fearlessness and courage ; the best and 
noblest girls in the school tried to influence her for 
good. She was more or less an object of interest to 
every one ; her courage was of just the sort to cap- 
tivate school-girls, and her moral weakness was not 
observed by these inexperienced young eyes. 

Hester alone, of all the girls who for a long time 
had come to Lavender House, failed to see any charm 
in Annie. She began by considering her ill-bred, and 
when she found, she was the school favourite, she 
tossed her proud little head and determined that she 
for one would never be subjugated by such a naughty 
girl. Hester could read character with tolerable clear- 
ness ; ‘ she was an observant child — very observant, 
and very thoughtful for her twelve years ; and as the 
little witch Annie had failed to throw any spell over 
her, she saw her faults far more clearly than did her 
companions. There is no doubt that this brilliant, 
charming, and naughty Annie had heaps of faults; 


6o 


A World of G/rls, 


she had no perseverance ; she was all passion and 
impulse ; she could be the kindest of the kind, but 
from sheer thoughtlessness and wildness she often 
inflicted severe pain, even on those she loved best. 
Annie very nearly worshipped Mrs. Willis, she Jiad 
the most intense adoration for her, she respected her 
beyond any other human being. There were moments 
when the impulsive and hot-headed child felt that she 
could gladly lay down her life for her schoolmistress. 
Once the mistress was ill, and Annie curled herself 
up all night outside her door, thereby breaking rules, 
and giving herself a severe cold ; but her passion and 
agony were so great that she could only be soothed 
by at last stealing into the darkened room and kissing 
the face she loved. 

“ Prove your love to me, Annie, by going down- 
stairs and keeping the school rules as perfectly as 
possible,” whispered the teacher. 

“ I will — I will never break a rule again as long as 
I live, if you get better, Mrs. Willis,” responded the 
child. 

She ran downstairs with her resolves strong within 
her, and yet in half an hour she was reprimanded for 
wilful and desperate disobedience. 

One day Cecil Temple had invited a select 
number of friends to afternoon tea in her little 
drawing-room. It was the Wednesday half-holiday, 
and Cecil’s tea, poured into the tiniest cups and 
accompanied by thin wafer biscuits, was of the most 
recherche quality. Cecil had invited Hester Thornton, 
and a tall girl who belonged to the first class and 
whose name was Dora Russell, to partake of this 
dainty beverage. They were sitting round the tiny 
tea-table, on little red stools with groups of flowers 


Annie's Proposal, 


6i 


artistically painted on them, and were all three con- 
ducting themselves in a most ladylike and refined 
manner, when Annie Forest’s curly head and saucy 
face popped over the enclosure, and her voice said 
eagerly — 

“ Oh, may I be permitted to enter the shrine ? ” 

“ Certainly, Annie,” said Cecil, in her most cordial 
tones. “ I have got another cup and saucer, and there 
is a little tea left in the teapot.” 

Annie came in, and ensconced herself cosily on 
the floor. It did not matter in the least to her that 
Hester Thornton^s brow grew dark, and that Miss 
Russell suddenly froze into complete indifference to 
all her surroundings. Annie was full of a subject 
which excited her very much : she had suddenly dis- 
covered that she wanted to give Mrs. Willis a present, 
and she wished to know if any of the girls would like 
to join her. 

“ I will give her the present this day week,” said 
excitable Annie. “ I have quite made up nly mind. 
Will any one join me } ” 

“ But there is nothing special about this day week, 
Annie,” said Miss Temple. It will neither be Mrs. 
Willis’s birthday, nor Christmas Day, nor New Year’s 
Day, nor Easter Day. Next Wednesday will be just 
like any other Wednesday. Why should we make 
Mrs. Willis a present ? ” 

“ Oh, because she looks as if she wanted one, poor 
dear. I thought she looked sad this morning; her 
eyes drooped and her mouth was down at the corners. 
I am sure she’s wanting something from us all by 
now, just to show that we love her, you know.” 

“ Pshaw ! ” here burst from Hester’s lips. 

‘‘ Why do you say that ? ” said Annie, turning 


62 


A World or Girls. 


round with Her bright eyes flashing. "YouVe no 
right to be so contemptuous when I speak about our 
— our head-mistress. Oh, Cecil,” she continued, “ do 
let us give her a little surprise — some spring flowers, 
or something just to show her that we love her.” 

“ ^wtyou don’t love her,^’ said Hester, stoutly. 

Here was throwing down the gauntlet with a 
vengeance ! Annie sprang to her feet and confronted 
Hester with a whole torrent of angry words. Hester 
firmly maintained her position. She said over and 
over again that love proved itself by deeds, not by 
words ; that if Annie learnt her lessons, and obeyed 
the school rules, she would prove her affection for Mrs. 
Willis far more than by empty protestations. Hester’s 
words were true, but they were uttered in an unkind 
spirit, and the very flavour of truth which they 
possessed caused them to enter Annie’s heart and to 
wound her deeply. She turned, not red, but very 
white, and her large and lovely eyes grew misty with 
unshed tears. 

“ You are cruel,” she gasped, rather than spoke, and 
then she pushed aside the curtains of Cecil’s compart- 
ment and walked out of the play-room. 

There was a dead silence among the three girls 
when she left them. Hester^s heart was still hot, and 
she was still inclined to maintain her own position, 
and to believe she had done right in speaking in so 
severe a tone to Annie. But even she had been made 
a little uneasy by the look of deep suffering which 
had suddenly transformed Annie’s charming childish 
face into that of a troubled and pained woman. She 
sat down meekly on her little three-legged stool and, 
taking up her tiny cup and saucer, sipped some of the 
cold tea. 


Not Like Other Girls'* 


63 


Cecil Temple was the first to speak. 

“ How could you ? " she said, in an indignant voice 
for her. “ Annie is not the girl to be driven, and, in 
any case, it is not for you to correct her. Oh, Mrs. 
Willis would have been so pained had she heard 
you — you were not kmd, Miss Thornton. There, I 
don’t wish to be rude, but I fear I must leave you and 
Miss Russell — I must try and find Annie.” 

“ I’m going back to my own drawing-room,” said 
Miss Russell, rising to her feet. “ Perhaps,” she 
added, turning round with a very gracious smile to 
Hester, “ you will come and see me there, after tea, 
this evening.” 

Miss Russell drew aside the curtains of Cecil 
Temple’s little room, and disappeared. Hester, with 
her eyes full of tears, now turned eagerly to Cecil. 

“ Forgive me, Cecil,” she exclaimed. “ I did not 
mean to be unkind, but it is really quite ridiculous 
the way you all spoil that girl — you know as well as I 
do that she is a very naughty girl. I suppose it is 
because of her pretty face,” continued Hester, “ that 
you are all so unjust, and so blind to her faults.” 

“ You are prejudiced the other way, Hester,” said 
Cecil in a more gentle tone. “You have disliked 
Annie from the first. There don’t keep me — I must 
go to her now. There is no knowing what harm your 
words may have done. Annie is not like other girls. 
If you knew her story, you would perhaps be kinder 
to her.” 

Cecil then ran out of her drawing-room, leaving 
Hester in sole possession of the little tea-things and 
the three-legged stools. She sat and thought for 
some time ; she was a girl with a great deal of 
obstinacy in her nature, and she was not disposed to 


64 


A World of Girls. 


yield her own point, even to Cecil Temple ; but Cecirs 
words had, nevertheless, made some impression on her. 

At tea-time that night, Annie and Cecil entered 
the room together. Annie’s eyes were as bright as 
stars, and her usually pale cheeks glowed with a deep 
colour. She had never looked prettier — she had never 
looked so defiant, so mischievous, so utterly reckless. 
Mdlle. Perier fired indignant French at her across the 
table. Annie answered respectfully, and became 
demure in a moment ; but even in the short instant 
in which the governess was obliged to lower her eyes 
to her plate, she had thrown a look so irresistibly 
comic at her companions, that several of them had 
tittered aloud. Not once did she glance at Hester, 
although she occasionally looked boldly in her direc- 
tion ; but when she did so, her versatile face assumed 
a blank expression, as if she were seeing nothing. 
When tea was over, Dora Russell surprised the mem- 
bers of her own class by walking straight up to 
Hester, putting her hand inside her arm, and leading 
her off to her own very refined-looking little drawing- 
room. 

“ I want to tell you,” she said, when the two girls 
found themselves inside the small enclosure, “ that I 
quite agree with you in your opinion of Miss Forest. I 
think you were very brave to speak to her as you did 
to-day. As a rule, I never trouble myself with what 
the little girls in the third class do, and of course 
Annie seldom comes under my notice ; but I think 
she is a decidedly spoilt child, and your rebuff will 
doubtless do her a great deal of good.” 

These words of commendation, coming from tall 
and dignified Miss Russell, completely turned poor 
Hester’s head. 


**Any One can See That'' 65 

** Oh, I am so glad you think so ! ” she stammered, 
colouring high with pleasure. “ You see,” she added, 
assuming a little tone of extra refinement, “at home 
I always associated with girls who were perfect 
ladies.” 

“Yes, any one can see that,” remarked Miss 
Russell approvingly. 

“And I do think Annie under-bred,” continued 
Hester. “ I cannot understand,” she added, “ why 
Miss Temple likes her so much.” 

“ Oh, Cecil is so amiable ; she sees good in every 
one,"” answered Miss Russell. “Annie is evidently 
not a lady, and I am glad at last to find some one 
of the girls who belong to the middle school capable 
of discerning this fact. Of course, we of the first class 
have nothing whatever to say to Miss Forest, but 
I really think Mrs. Willis is not acting quite fairly 
by the other girls when she allows a young person 
of that description into the school. I wish to assure 
you. Miss Thornton, that you have at least my sym- 
pathy, and I shall be very pleased to see you in my 
drawing-room now and then.” 

As these last words were uttered, both girls were 
conscious of a little rustling sound not far away. 
Miss Russell drew back her curtain, and asked very 
sharply, “ Who is there ” but no one replied, nor 
was there any one in sight, for the girls who did not 
possess compartments were congregated at the other 
end of the long play-room, listening to stories which 
Emma Marshall, a clever elder girl, was relating for 
their benefit 

Miss Russell talked on indifferent subjects to 
Hester, and at the end of the half-hour the two 
entered the class-room side by side, Hcsteris little 
£ 


66 


A World of Girls. 


head a good deal turned by this notice from one 
of the oldest girls in the school. 

As the two walked together into the school-room, 
Susan Drummond, who, tall as she was, was only 
in the fourth class, rushed up to Miss Forest, and 
whispered something in her ear. 

“ It is just as I told you,” she said, and her sleepy 
voice was quite wide awake and animated. Annie 
Forest rewarded her by a playful pinch on her cheek ; 
then she returned to her own class, with a severe 
reprimand from the class teacher, and sileilce reigned 
in the long room, as the girls began to prepare their 
lessons as usual for the next day. 

Miss Russell took her place at her desk in her 
usual dignified manner. She was a clever girl, and 
was going to leave school at the end of next term. 
Hers was a particularly fastidious, but by no means 
great nature — she was the child of wealthy parents, 
she was also well-born, and because of her money, 
and a certain dignity and style which had come to 
her as nature’s gifts, she held an influence, though 
by no means a large one, in the school. No one 
particularly disliked her, but no one, again, ardently 
loved her. The girls in her own class thought it 
well to be friendly with Dora Russell, and Dora 
accepted their homage with more or less indifference. 
She did not greatly care for either their praise or 
blame. Dora possessed in a strong degree that 
baneful quality, which more than anything else pre- 
cludes the love of others — she was essentially selfish. 

She sat now before her desk, little guessing how 
she had caused Hester’s small heart to beat by her 
patronage, and little suspecting the mischief she had 
done to the girl by her injudicious words. Had 


Dora RusselL, 67 

she known, it is to be doubted whether she would 
have greatly cared. She looked through the books 
which contained her tasks for the next day’s work, 
and, finding they did not require a great deal of pre- 
paration, put them aside, and amused herself during 
the rest of preparation time with a story-book, which 
she artfully concealed behind the leaves of some 
exercises. She knew she was breaking the rules, 
but this fact did not trouble her, for her moral 
nature was, after all, no better than poor Annie’s, 
and she had not a tenth of her lovable qualities. 

Dora Russell was the soul of neatness and order. 
To look inside her school desk was a positive plea- 
sure ; to glance at her own neat and trim figure 
was more or less of a delight. Hers were the whitest 
hands in the school, and hers the most perfectly 
kept and glossy hair. As the preparation - hour drew 
to a close, she replaced her exercises and books 
in exquisite order in her school desk and shut down 
the lid. 

Hester’s eyes followed her as she walked out 
of the school-room, for the head class never had 
supper with the younger girls. Hester wondered 
if she would glance in her direction ; but Miss Russell 
had gratified a very passing whim when she con- 
descended to notice and praise Hester, and she had 
already almost forgotten her existence. 

At bed-time that night Susan Drummond’s be- 
haviour was at the least extraordinary. In the first 
place, instead of being almost overpoweringly friendly 
with Hester, she scarcely^ noticed her ; in the next 
place, she made some very peculiar preparations. 

“ What are you doing on the floor, Susan ? ” 
inquired Hetty in an innocent tone. 

£ 2 


68 


A World of Girls. 


“ That’s nothing to you,” replied Miss Drummond, 
turning a dusky red, and looking annoyed at being 
discovered. “ I do wish,” she added, “ that you would 
go round to your side of the room and leave me 
alone ; I sha’n’t have done what I want to do before 
Danesbury comes in to put out the candle.” 

Hester was not going to put herself out with any 
of Susan Drummond’s vagaries ; she looked upon 
sleepy Susan as a girl quite beneath her notice, but 
even she could not help observing her, when she saw 
her sit up in bed a quarter of an hour after the candles 
had been put out, and in the flickering firelight which 
shone conveniently bright for her purpose, fasten a 
piece of string first round one of her toes, and then to 
the end of the bed-post. 

“What are you doing?” said Hester again, half 
laughing. 

“ Oh, what a spy you are ! ” said Susan. “ I want 
to wake, that’s all ; and whenever I turn in bed, that 
string will tug at my toe, and, of course. I’ll rouse up. 
If you were more good-natured. I’d give the other 
end of the string to you ; but, of course, that plan 
would never answer.” 

“ No, indeed,” replied Hester ; “ I am not going 
to trouble myself to wake you. You must trust to 
your sponge of cold water in the morning, unless your 
own admirable device succeeds.” 

“ I’m going to sleep now, at any rate,” answered 
Susan ; “ Tm on my back, and Tm beginning to 
snore ; good night.” 

Once or twice during the night Hester heard 
groans from the self-sacrificing Susan, who, doubtless, 
found the string attached to her foot very incon- 
venient 


Midnight Doings. 


69 


Hester, however, slept on when it might have been 
better for the peace of many in the school that she 
should have awakened. She heard no sound when, 
long before day, sleepy Susan stepped softly out of bed, 
and wrapping a thick shawl about her, glided out of 
the room. She was away for over half an hour, but 
she returned to her chamber and got into bed without 
in the least disturbing Hester. In the morning she 
was found so soundly asleep that even the sponge of 
cold water could not arouse her. 

“Pull the string at the foot of the bed, Alice,” 
said Hester ; “ she fastened a string to her toe, and 
twisted the other end round the bed-post, last night — 
pull it, Alice, it may effect its purpose.” 

But there was no string now round Susan Drum- 
mond’s foot, nor was it found hanging to the bed- 
post 


CHAPTER XI. 

WHAT WAS FOUND IN THE SCHOOL-DESK. 

The next morning, when the whole school were 
assembled, and all the classes were getting ready for 
the real work of the day. Miss Good, the English 
teacher, stepped to the head of the room, and, holding a 
neatly bound volume of “Jane Eyre” in her hand, 
begged to know to whom it belonged. There was a 
hush of astonishment when she held up the little 
book, for all the girls knew well that this special 
volume was not allowed for school literature. 

“ The housemaid who dusts the school-room found 
this book on the floor,” continued the teacher, " It 


70 


A World of Girls. 


lay beside a desk near the top of the room. I see 
the name has been torn out, so I cannot tell who is 
the owner. I must request her, however, to step 
forward and take possession of her property. If 
there is the slightest attempt at concealment, the 
whole matter will be laid before Mrs. Willis at noon 
to-day.” 

When Miss Good had finished her little speech, 
she held up the book in its green binding and looked 
down the room. 

Hester did not know why her heart beat — no one 
glanced at her, no one regarded her ; all eyes were 
fixed on Miss Good, who stood with a severe, un- 
smiling, but expectant face. 

“ Come, young ladies,” she said, “ the owner has 
surely no difficulty in recognising her own property. 
I give you exactly thirty seconds more ; then, if no 
one claims the book, I place the affair in Mrs. Willis’s 
hands.” 

Just then there was a stir amongst the girls in the 
head class. A tall girl in dove-coloured cashmere, 
with a smooth head of golden hair, and a fair face 
which was a good deal flushed at this moment, stepped 
to the front, and said in a clear and perfectly modu- 
lated voice — 

‘•'I had no idea of concealing the fact that ^Jane 
Eyre’ belongs to me. I was only puzzled for a 
moment to know how it got on the floor. I placed it 
carefully in my desk last night. I think this circum- 
stance ought to be inquired into.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” came from several suppressed voices 
here and there through the room ; “ whoever would 
have supposed that Dora Russell would be obliged to 
humble herself in this way ? ” 




** You Know These Rules?'' 71 

“ Attention, young ladies ! ” said Miss Good ; “ no 
talking, if you please. Do I understand. Miss Russell, 
that ‘Jane Eyre ’ is yours ? 

“ Yes, Miss Good.^’ 

“ Why did you keep it in your desk — ^were you 
reading it during preparation } " 

“ Oh, yes, certainly.” 

“ You are, of course, aware that you were breaking 
two very stringent rules of the school. In the first 
place, no story-books are allowed to be concealed in 
a school-desk, or to be read during preparation. In 
the second place, this special book is not allowed to 
be read at any time in Lavender House. You know 
these rules. Miss Russell ? ” 

“Yes, Miss Good.” 

“ I must retain the book — you can return now to 
your place in class.” 

Miss Russell bowed sedately, and with an appa- 
rently unmoved face, except for the slightly deepened 
glow on her smooth cheek, resumed her interrupted 
work. 

Lessons went on as usual, but during recreation 
the mystery of the discovered book was largely 
discussed by the girls. As is the custom of school- 
girls, they took violent sides in the matter — some 
rejoicing in Dora’s downfall, some pitying her in- 
tensely. Hester was, of course, one of Miss Russell’s 
champions, and she looked at her with tender 
sympathy when she came with her haughty and 
graceful manner into the school-room, and her little 
heart beat with a vague hope that Dora might turn 
to her for sympathy. 

Dora, however, did nothing of the kind. She 
refused to discuss the affair with her companions, 


72 


A World of Girls. 


and none of them quite knew what Mrs. Willis said 
to her, or what special punishment was inflicted on 
the proud girl. Several of her school-fellows ex- 
pected that Dora’s drawing-room would be taken 
away from her, but she still retained it ; and after a 
few days the affair of the book was almost forgotten. 

There was, however, an uncomfortable and an 
uneasy spirit abroad in the school. Susan Drum- 
mond, who was certainly one of the most uninterest- 
ing girls in Lavender House, was often seen walking 
with and talking to Miss Forest. Sometimes Annie 
shook her pretty head over Susan’s remarks ; some- 
times she listened to her ; sometimes she laughed 
and spoke eagerly for a moment or two, and appeared 
to acquiesce in suggestions which her companion 
urged. 

Annie had always been the soul of disorder — 
of wild pranks, of naughty and disobedient deeds 
— but, hitherto, in all her wildness she had never 
intentionally hurt any one but herself. Hers was 
a giddy and thoughtless, but by no means a bitter 
tongue — she thought well of all her school-fellows 
— and on occasions she could be self-sacrificing and 
good-natured to a remarkable extent. The girls of 
the head class took very little notice of Annie, but 
her other school-companions, as a rule, succumbed to 
her sunny, bright, and witty ways. She offended 
them a hundred times a day, and a hundred times a 
day was forgiven. Hester was the first girl in the 
third class who had ever persistently disliked Annie, 
and Annie, after making one or two overtures of 
friendship, began to return Miss Thornton’s aversion ; 
but she had never cordially hated her until the day 
they met in Cecil Temple’s drawing-room, and Hester 


The Next Victim. 


n 

had wounded Annie in her tenderest part by doubting 
her affection for Mrs. Willis. 

Since that day there was a change very noticeable 
in Annie Forest — she was not so gay as formerly, but 
she was a great deal more mischievous — she was 
not nearly so daring, but she was capable now of 
little actions, slight in themselves, which yet were 
calculated to cause mischief and real unhappiness. 
Her sudden friendship with Susan Drummond did 
her no good, and she persistently avoided all inter- 
course with Cecil Temple, who hitherto had influenced 
her in the right direction. 

The incident of the green book had passed with 
no apparent result of grave importance, but the spirit 
of mischief which had caused this book to be found 
was by no means asleep in the school. Pranks were 
played in a most mysterious fashion with the girls’ 
properties. 

Hester herself was the very next victim. She 
too was a neat and orderly child — she was clever and 
thoroughly enjoyed her school work. She was 
annoyed, therefore, and dreadfully puzzled, by dis- 
covering one morning that her neat French exercise 
book was disgracefully blotted, and one page torn 
across. She was severely reprimanded by Mdlle. 
Perier for such gross untidiness and carelessness, and 
when she assured the governess that she knew no- 
thing whatever of the circumstance, that she was 
never guilty of blots, and had left the book in per- 
fect order the night before, the French lady only 
shrugged her shoulders, made an expressive gesture 
with her eyebrows, and plainly showed Hester that 
she thought the less she said on that subject the 
better. 


74 


A World of Girls. 


Hester was required to write out her exercise 
again, and she fancied she saw a triumphant look in 
Annie Forest’s eyes as she left the school-room, where 
poor Hester was obliged to remain to undergo her 
unmerited punishment 

“ Cecil,” called Hester, in a passionate and eager 
voice, as Miss Temple was passing her place. 

Cecil paused for a moment 

“ What is it, Hetty ? — oh, I am so sorry you must 
stay in this lovely bright day.” 

“ I have done nothing wrong,” said Hester ; “ I 
never blotted this exercise-book ; I never tore this 
page. It is most unjust not to believe my word ; it 
is most unjust to punish me for what I have not done.” 

Miss Temple’s face looked puzzled and sad. 

“ I must not stay to talk to you now, Hester,” she 
whispered ; “ I am breaking the rules. You can come 
to my drawing-room by-and-by, and we will discuss 
this matter.'’^ 

But Hester and Cecil, talk as they would, could 
find no solution to the mystery. Cecil absolutely 
refused to believe that Annie Forest had anything to 
do with the matter. 

“ No,” she said, “ such deceit is not in Annie’s 
nature. I would do anything to help you, Hester; 
but I can’t, and I won’t, believe that Annie tried 
deliberately to do you any harm.” 

“ I am quite certain she did,” retorted Hester, 
and from this moment I refuse to speak to her until 
she confesses what she has done and apologises to 
me. Indeed, I have a great mind to go and tell 
everything to Mrs. Willis.” 

“ Oh, I would not do that,” said Cecil ; “ none of 
your school-fellows would forgive you if you charged 




A Gesture of Dismay, 75 

such a favourite as Annie with a crime which you 
cannot in the least prove against her. You must be 
patient, Hester, and if you are, I will take your part, 
and try to get at the bottom of the mystery.” 

Cecil, however, failed to do so. Annie laughed 
when the affair was discussed in her presence, but her 
clear eyes looked as innocent as the day, and nothing 
would induce Cecil to doubt Miss Forest’s honour. 

The mischievous sprite, however, who was sowing 
such seeds of unhappiness in the hitherto peaceful 
school was not satisfied with two deeds of daring ; 
for a week afterwards Cecil Temple found a book 
of Mrs. Browning’s, out of which she was learning 
a piece for recitation, with its cover half torn off, and, 
still worse, a caricature of Mrs. Willis sketched with 
some cleverness and a great deal of malice on the 
title-page. On the very same morning, Dora Russell, 
on opening her desk, was seen to throw up her hands 
with a gesture of dismay. The neat composition she 
had finished the night before was not to be seen in its 
accustomed place, but in a corner of the desk were two 
bulky and mysterious parcels, one of which contained 
a great junk of rich plum-cake, and the other some 
very sticky and messy “Turkish delight”; while the 
paper which enveloped these luxuries was found to be 
that on which the missing composition was written. 
Dora’s face grew very white — she forgot the ordinary 
rules of the school, and, leaving her class, walked down 
the room, and interrupted Miss Good, who was be- 
ginning to instruct the third class in English grammar. 

“ Will you please come and see something in my 
desk, Miss Good.?” she said in a voice which trem- 
bled with excitement. 

It was while she was speaking that Cecil found the 


76 


A World of Girls. 


copy of Mrs. Browning mutilated, and with the dis- 
graceful caricature on its title-page. Startled as she 
was by this discovery, and also by Miss Russell's 
extraordinary behaviour, she had presence of mind 
enough to hide the sight which pained her from her 
companions. Unobserved, in the strong interest of 
the moment, for all the girls were watching Dora 
Russell and Miss Good, she managed to squeeze the 
little volume into her pocket. She had indeed re- 
ceived a great shock, for she knew well that the only 
girl who could caricature in the school was Annie 
Forest. For a moment her troubled eyes sought the 
ground, but then she raised them and looked at 
Annie. Annie, however, with a particularly cheerful 
face, and her bright dark eyes full of merriment, was 
gazing in astonishment at the scene which was taking 
place in front of Miss Russell’s desk. 

Dora, whose enunciation was very clear, seemed 
to have absolutely forgotten herself ; she disregarded 
Miss Good’s admonitions, and declared stoutly that at 
such a moment she did not care what rules she broke. 
She was quite determined that the culprit who had 
dared to desecrate her composition, and put plum- 
cake and “Turkish delight” into her desk, should be 
publicly exposed and punished. 

“ The thing cannot go on any longer. Miss 
Good,” she said ; “ there is a girl in this school who 
ought to be expelled from it, and I for one declare 
openly that I will not submit to associate with 
a girl who is worse than unladylike. If you will 
permit me. Miss Good, I will carry these things at 
once to Mrs. Willis, and beg of her to investigate the 
whole affair, and bring the culprit to justice, and to 
turn her out of the school” 


“ You Forget YourselfP 77 

“ Stay, Miss Russell,” exclaimed the English 
teacher, “ you strangely and completely forget your- 
self. You are provoked. Town, but you have no right 
to stand up and absolutely hoist the flag of rebellion 
in the faces of the other girls. I cannot excuse your 
conduct. I will myself take away these parcels which 
were found in your desk, and will report the affair to 
Mrs. Willis. She will take what steps she thinks 
right in bringing you to order, and in discovering the 
author of this mischief Return instantly to your 
desk. Miss Russell ; you strangely forget yourself” 

Miss Good left the room, having removed the 
plum-cake and “ Turkish delight ” from Dora Russell’s 
desk, and lessons continued as best they could under 
such exciting circumstances. 

At twelve o’clock that day, just as the girls were 
preparing to go up to their rooms to get ready for 
their usual walk, Mrs. Willis came into the school- 
room. 

“ Stay one moment, young ladies,” said the head- 
mistress in that slightly vibrating and authoritative 
voice of hers. “ I have a word or two to say to you 
all. Miss Good has just brought me a painful story 
of wanton and cruel mischief There are fifty girls in 
this school, who, until lately, lived happily together. 
There is now one girl amongst the fifty whose object 
it is to sow seeds of discord and misery among her 
companions. Miss Good has told me of three dif- 
ferent occasions on which mischief has been done to 
different girls in the school. Twice Miss Russell’s 
desk has been disturbed, once Miss Thornton’s. It is 
possible that other girls may also have suffered who 
have been noble enough not to complain. There is, 
however, a grave mischief, in short, a moral disease in 


s 


A World of Girls. 


our midst. Such a thing is worse than bodily illness 
— it must be stamped out instantly and completely at 
the risk of any personal suffering. I am now going 
to ask you, girls, a simple question, and I demand 
instant truth without any reservation. Miss Russell’s 
desk has been tampered with — Miss Thornton’s desk 
has been tampered with. Has any other girl suffered 
injury — has any other girl’s desk been touched ” 

Mrs. Willis looked down the long room — her 
voice had reached every corner, and the quiet, digni- 
fied, and deeply-pained expression in her fine eyes 
was plainly visible to each girl in the school. Even 
the little ones were startled and subdued by the tone 
of Mrs. Willis’s voice, and one or two of them sud- 
denly burst into tears. Mrs. Willis paused for a full 
moment, then she repeated her question. 

I insist upon knowing the exact truth, my dear 
children,” she said gently but with great decision. 

“ My desk has also been tampered with,” said Miss 
Temple in a low voice. 

Every one started when Cecil spoke, and even 
Annie Forest glanced at her with a half-frightened 
and curious expression. Cecil’s voice indeed was so 
low, so shaken with doubt and pain, that her com- 
panions scarcely recognised it. 

“ Come here. Miss Temple,” said Mrs. Willis. 

Cecil instantly left her desk and walked up the 
room. 

“ Your desk has also been tampered with, you 
say ? ” repeated the head-mistress. 

“Yes, madam.” 

“ When did you discover this ? ” 

“To-day, Mrs. Willis.” 

“You kept it to yourself? ” 


**/ Cannot Tell YouT 79 

"Yes” 

“Will you now repeat in the presence of the 
school, and in a loud enough voice to be heard by all 
here, exactly what was done ? ” 

“ Pardon me,” answered Cecil, and now her voice 
was a little less agitated and broken, and she looked 
full into the face of her teacher, “ I cannot do that.” 

“ You deliberately disobey me, Cecil ? ” said Mrs. 
Willis. 

“Yes, madam.” 

Mrs. Willis’s face flushed — she did not, however, 
look angry — she laid her hand on Cecil’s shoulder and 
looked full into her eyes. 

“ You are one of my best pupils, Cecil,” she said 
tenderly. “ At such a moment as this honour requires 
you to stand by your mistress. I must insist on your 
telling me here and now exactly what has occurred.” 

Cecil’s face grew whiter and whiter. 

“ I cannot tell you,” she murmured ; “ it breaks my 
heart, but I cannot tell you.” 

“You have defied me, Cecil,” said Mrs. Willis in 
a tone of deep pain. “ I must, my dear, insist on 
your obedience, but not now. Miss Good, will you 
take Miss Temple to the chapel ? I will come to you, 
Cecil, in an hour’s time.” 

Cecil walked down the room crying silently. Her 
deep distress and her very firm refusal to disclose 
what she knew had made a great impression on her 
schoolfellows. They all felt troubled and uneasy, and 
Annie Forest’s face was very pale. 

“ This thing, this wicked, mischievous thing has 
gone deeper than I feared,” said Mrs. Willis, when 
Cecil had left the room. “Only some very strong 
motive would make Cecil Temple behave as she is 


So 


A World of Girls, 


now doing. She is influenced by a mistaken idea of 
what is right ; she wishes to shield the guilty person. 
I may as well tell you all, young ladies, that, dear as 
Cecil is to me, she is now under the ban of my severe 
displeasure. Until she confesses the truth and 
humbles herself before me, I cannot be reconciled 
to her. I cannot permit her to associate with you. 
She has done very wrong, and her punishment must 
be proportionately severe. There is one chance for 
her, however. Will the girl whom she is mistakenly, 
though generously, trying to shield, come forward and 
confess her guilt, and so release poor Cecil from the 
terrible position in which she has placed herself? 
By doing so, the girl who has caused all this misery 
will at least show me that she is trying to repent.” 

Mrs. Willis paused again, and now she looked 
down the room with a face of almost entreaty- 
Several pairs of eyes were fixed anxiously on her, 
several looked away, and many girls glanced in the 
direction of Annie Forest, who, feeling herself sus- 
pected, returned their glances with bold defiance, and 
instantly assumed her most reckless manner. 

Mrs. Willis waited for a full minute. 

“ The culprit is not noble enough,” she said then. 
“ Now, girls, I must ask each of you to come up one 
by one and deny or confess this charge. As you 
do so, you are silently to leave the school-room and 
go up to your rooms, and prepare for the walk which 
has been so painfully delayed. Miss Conway, you 
are at the head of the school, will you set the 
example ? ” 

One by one the girls of the head class stepped up 
to their teacher, and of each one she asked the same 
question— 


A Remarkable Face. 8i 

“ Are you guilty ? ” 

Each girl replied in the negative and walked out 
of the school-room. The second class followed the 
example of the first, and then the third class came 
up to their teacher. Several ears were strained to 
hear Annie Forest’s answer, but her eyes were lifted 
fearlessly to Mrs. Willises face, and her “ No ! ” was 
heard all over the room. 


CHAPTER XII. 

IN THE CHAPEL. 

The bright light from a full noontide sun was shining 
in coloured bars through the richly-painted windows 
of the little chapel when Mrs. Willis sought Cecil 
Temple there. 

Cecil’s face was in many ways a remarkable one. 
Her soft brown eyes were generally filled with a 
steadfast and kindly ray. Gentleness was her special 
prerogative, but there was nothing weak about her — 
hers was the gentleness of a strong and pure and 
noble soul. To know Cecil was to love her. She 
was a motherless girl, and the only child of a most 
indulgent father. Colonel Temple was now in India, 
and Cecil was to finish her education under Mrs. 
Willis’s care, and then, if necessary, to join her father. 

Mrs. Willis had always taken a special interest in 
this girl. She admired her for her great moral worth. 
Cecil was not particularly clever, but she was so 
studious, so painstaking, that she always kept a high 
place in class. She was without doubt a religious 
girl, but there was nothing of the prig about her, 
F 


82 


A World of Girls. 


She was not, however, ashamed of her religion, and, if 
the fitting occasion arose, she was fearless in express- 
ing her opinion. 

Mrs. Willis used to call Cecil her “ little standard- 
bearer,” and she relied greatly on her influence over 
the third-class girls. Mrs. Willis considered the third 
class, perhaps, the most important in the school. She 
was often heard to say — 

“The girls who fill this class have come to a 
turning-point — they have come to the age when 
resolves may be made for life, and kept. The good 
third-class girl is very unlikely to degenerate as she 
passes through the second and first classes. On - the 
other hand, there is very little hope that the idle or 
mischievous third-class girl will mend her ways as she 
goes higher in the school.” 

Mrs. Willis’s steps were very slow, and her 
thoughts extremely painful, as she entered the chapel 
to-day. Had any one else offered her defiance she 
would have known how to deal with the culprit, but 
Cecil would never have acted as she did without the 
strongest motive, and Mrs. Willis felt more sorrowful 
than angry as she sat down by the side of her 
favourite pupil. 

“ I have kept you waiting longer than I intended, 
my dear,” she said. “ I was unexpectedly interrupted, 
and I am sorry ; but you have had more time to think, 
Cecil.” 

“Yes, I have thought,” answered Cecil, in a very 
low tone. 

“ And, perhaps,” continued her governess, “ in this 
quiet and beautiful and sacred place, my dear pupil 
has also prayed ? ” 

" I have prayed,” said Cecil 






Very much Puzzled. 


83 


“Then you have been guided, Cecil,” said Mrs. 
Willis in a tone of relief. “ We do not come to God 
in our distress without being shown the right way. 
Your doubts have been removed, Cecil ; you can now 
speak fully to me : can you not, dear } ” 

“ I have asked God to tell me what is right,” said 
Cecil. “ I don’t pretend to know. I am very much 
puzzled. It seems to me that more good would be 
done if I concealed what you asked me to confess 
in the school-room. My own feeling is that I 
ought not to tell you. I know this is great dis- 
obedience, and I am quite willing to receive any 
punishment you think right to give me. Yes, 1 
think I am quite willing to receive any punishment.” 

Mrs. Willis put her hand on Cecil’s shoulder. 

“ Ordinary punishments are not likely to affect 
you, Cecil,” she said ; “ on you I have no idea of 
inflicting extra lessons, or depriving you of half- 
holidays, or even taking away your drawing -room. 
But there is something else you must lose, and that 
I know will touch you deeply — I must remove from 
you my confidence.” 

Cecil’s face grew very pale. 

“ And your love, too ? ” she said, looking up with 
imploring eyes ; “ oh, surely not your love as well ? ” 

“I ask you frankly, Cecil,” replied Mrs. Willis, 
“can perfect love exist without perfect confidence.!* 
I would not willingly deprive you of my love, but of 
necessity the love I have hitherto felt for you must 
be altered — in short, the old love which enabled me to 
rest on you and trust you, will cease.” 

Cecil covered her face with her hands. 

“This punishment is very cruel,” she said. “You 
are right ; it reaches down to my very heart. But,” 


■'! 


F 2 


S4 


A World of Girls. 


she added, looking up with a strong and sweet light 
in her face, “ I will try and bear it, and some day you 
will understand.” 

“ Listen, Cecil,” said Mrs. Willis : “you have just 
told me you have prayed to God, and have asked 
Him to show you the right path. Now, my dear, 
suppose we kneel together, and both of us ask Him to 
show us the way out of this difficult matter. I want 
to be guided to use the right words with you, Cecil. 
You want to be guided to receive the instruction 
which I, as your teacher and mother-friend, would 
give you.” 

Cecil and Mrs. Willis both knelt down, and the 
head-mistress said a few words in a voice of great 
earnestness and entreaty; then they resumed their 
seats. 

“Now, Cecil,” said Mrs. Willis, “you must re- 
member in listening to me that I am speaking to 
you as I believe God wishes me to. If I can con- 
vince you that you are doing wrong in concealing 
what you know from me, will you act as I wish in 
the matter } ” 

“ I long to be convinced,” said Cecil, in a low 
tone. 

“ That is right, my dear ; I can now speak to you 
with perfect freedom. My words you will remember, 
Cecil, are now, I firmly believe, directed by God ; 
they are also the result of a large experience. I 
have trained many girls. I have watched the phases 
of thought in many young minds. Cecil, look at me. 
I can read you like a book.” 

Cecil looked up expectantly. 

“Your motive for this concealment is as clear as 
the daylight, Cecil. You are keeping back what you 


“ You DO Suspect Her?"' 85 

know because you want to shield some one. Am I 
not i*ight, my dear } ” 

The colour flooded Cecil’s pale face. She bent her 
head in silent assent, but her eyes were too full of 
tears, and her lips trembled too much to allow her 
to speak. 

“The girl you want to defend,” continued Mrs. 
Willis, in that clear patient voice of hers, “ is one 
whom you and I both love ; is one for whom we both 
have prayed ; is one for whom we would both 
gladly sacrifice ourselves if necessary — her name 
is ” 

“ Oh, don’t,” said Cecil imploringly — “ don’t say 
her name ; you have no right to suspect her.” 

“ I must say her name, Cecil dear. If you suspect 
Annie Forest, why should not I ? You do suspect her, 
do you not, Cecil ? ” 

Cecil began to cry. 

“ I know it,” continued Mrs. Willis. " Now, Cecil, 
we will suppose, terrible as this suspicion is, fearfully 
as it pains us both, that Annie Forest is guilty. We 
must suppose for the sake of my argument that 
this is the case. Do you not know, my dear Cecil, 
that you are doing the falsest, cruellest thing by dear 
Annie in trying to hide her sin from me? Suppose, 
just for the sake of our argument, that this cowardly 
conduct on Annie’s part was never found out by me : 
what effect would it have on Annie herself ? ” 

“It would save her in the eyes of the school,” 
said Cecil. 

“Just so, but God would know the truth. Her 
next downfall would be deeper. In short, Cecil, under 
the idea of friendship you would have done the 
cruellest thing in all the world for your friend ” 


86 


A World of Girls, 


Cecil was quite silent. 

“ This is one way to look at it/* continued Mrs. 
Willis, “ but there are many other points from which 
this case ought to be viewed. You owe much to 
Annie, but not all — you have a duty to perform to 
your other schoolfellows. You have a duty to perform 
to me. If you possess a clue which will enable me to 
convict Annie Forest of her sin, in common justice 
you have no right to withhold it. Remember that 
while she goes about free and unsuspected some other 
girl is under the ban — some other girl is watched and 
feared. You fail in your duty to your schoolfellows 
when you keep back your knowledge, Cecil. When 
you refuse to trust me, you fail in your duty to your 
mistress ; for I cannot stamp out this evil and wicked 
thing from our midst unless I know all. When 
you conceal your knowledge, you ruin the character 
of the girl you seek to shield. When you conceal 
your knowledge, you go against God’s express wish. 
There — I have spoken to you as He directed me 
to speak.” 

Cecil suddenly sprang to her feet. 

“ I never thought of all these things,” she said. 
“ You are right, but it is very hard, and mine is only 
a suspicion. Oh, do be tender to her, and — forgive 
me — may I go away now ? ” 

As she spoke, she pulled out the torn copy of Mrs. 
Browning, laid it on her teacher’s lap, and ran swiftly 
out of the chapel 


S7 


CHAPTER XIII. 

TALKING OVER THE MYSTERY. 

Annie Forest, sitting in the midst of a group of 
eager admirers, was chatting volubly. Never had she 
been in higher spirits, never had her pretty face looked 
more bright and daring. 

Cecil Temple, coming into the play-room, started 
when she saw her. Annie, however, instantly rose 
from the low hassock on which she had perched 
herself and, running up to Cecil, put her hand through 
her arm. 

“We are all discussing the mystery, darling,” she 
she ; “ we have discussed it, and literally torn it to 
shreds, and yet never got at the kernel. We have 
guessed and guessed what your motive can be in 
concealing the truth from Mrs. Willis, and we all 
unanimously vote that you are a dear old martyr, and 
that you have some admirable reason for keeping 
back the truth. You cannot think what an excitement 
we are in — even Susy Drummond has stayed awake 
to listen to our chatter. Now, Cecil, do come and sit 
here in this most inviting little arm-chair, and tell us 
what our dear head-mistress said to you in the chapel. 
It did seem so awful to send you to the chapel, poor 
dear Cecil.” 

Cecil stood perfectly still and quiet while Annie 
was pouring out her torrent of eager words ; her eyes, 
indeed, did not quite meet her companion’s, but she 
allowed Annie to retain her clasp of her arm, and she 
evidently listened with attention to her words. Now, 


88 


A World of Girls. 


however, when Miss Forest tried to draw her into 
the midst of the eager and animated group who sat 
round the play-room fire, she hesitated and looked 
longingly in the direction of her peaceful little 
drawing-room. Her hesitation, however, was but 
momentary. Quite silently she walked with Annie 
down the large play-room and entered ^the group of 
girls. 

“ Here’s your throne. Queen Cecil,” said Annie, 
trying to push her into the little arm-chair ; but Cecil 
would not seat herself. 

“How nice that you have come, Cecil ! ” said Mary 
Pierce, a second-class girl. “ I really think, we all 
think, that you were very brave to stand out against 
Mrs. Willis as you did. Of course we are devoured 
with curiosity to know what it means ; aren^t we, 
Flo?” 

“Yes, we’re in agonies,” answered Flo Dunstan, 
another second-class girl. 

“ You will tell exactly what Mrs. Willis said, dar- 
ling heroine ? ” proceeded Annie in her most dulcet 
tones. “ You concealed your knowledge, didn’t you ? 
you were very firm, weren’t you ? dear, brave love ! 

“ For my part, I think Cecil Temple the soul of 
brave firmness,” here interrupted Susan Drummond. 
“ I fancy she’s as hard and firm in herself when she 
wants to conceal a thing as that rocky sweetmeat 
which always hurts our teeth to get through. Yes, I 
do fancy that.” 

“ Oh, Susy, what a horrid metaphor ! ” here inter- 
rupted several girls. 

One, however, of the eager group of school-girls 
had not opened her lips or said a word ; that girl was 
ester Thornton. She had been drawn into the circle 


Cecii^s Speech. 


89 


by an intense curiosity ; but she had made no comment 
with regard to Cecil’s conduct. If she knew anything 
of the mystery she had thrown no light on it. She 
had simply sat motionless, with watchful and alert 
eyes and silent tongue. Now, for the first time, she 
spoke. 

“ I think, if you will allow her, that Cecil has got 
something to say,” she remarked. 

Cecil glanced down at her with a very brief look 
of gratitude. 

“ Thank you, Hester,” she said. “ I won’t keep you 
a moment, girls. I cannot offer to throw any light on 
th^e mystery which makes us all so miserable to-day ; 
but I think it right to undeceive you with regard to 
myself. I have not concealed what I know from Mrs. 
Willis. She is in possession of all the facts, and what 
I found in my desk this morning is now in her keep- 
ing. She has made me see that in concealing my 
knowledge I was acting wrongly, and whatever pain 
has come to me in the matter, she now knows all.” 

When Cecil had finished her sad little speech she 
walked straight out of the group of girls, and, without 
glancing at one of them, went across the play-room to 
her own compartment. She had failed to observe a 
quick and startled glance from Susan Drummond’s 
sleepy blue eyes, nor had she heard her mutter — half 
to her companions, half to herself — 

“Cecil is not like the rocky sweetmeat; I was 
mistaken in her.” 

Neither had Cecil seen the flash of almost triumph 
in Hester’s eyes, nor the defiant glance she threw at 
Miss Forest. Annie stood with her hands clasped, 
and a little frown of perplexity between her brows, for 
a moment ; then she ran fearlessly down the play- 


go A World of Girls. 

room, and said in a low voice at the other side of 
Cecil-’s curtains — 

“May I come in'?^’ 

Cecil said “ Yes,” and Annie, entering the pretty 
little drawing-room, flung her arms round Miss 
Temple’s neck. 

“ Cecil,” she exclaimed impulsively, you’re in 
great trouble. I am a giddy, reckless thing, I know, 
but I don’t laugh at people when they are in real 
trouble. Won’t you tell me all about it, Cecil ? ” 

“ I will, Annie. Sit down there and I will tell you 
everything. I think you have a right to know, and I 
am glad you have come to me. I thought, perhaps — 
but no matter. Annie, can’t you guess what I am 
going to say ? ” 

“ No, I’m sure I can’t,’^ said Annie. “ I saw for a 
moment or two to-day that some of those absurd girls 
suspected me of being the author of all this mischief 
Now, you know, Cecil, I love a bit of fun beyond 
words. If there’s any going on I feel nearly mad until 
I am in it ; but what was done to-day was not at all in 
accordance with my ideas of fun. To tear up Miss 
Russell’s essay and fill her desk with stupid plum- 
cake and Turkish delight seems to me but a sorry 
kind of jest. Now, if I had been guilty of that sort of 
thing, I’d have managed something far cleverer than 
that. If / had tampered with Dora Russell’s desk, 
I’d have done the thing in style. The dear, sweet 
dignified creature should have shrieked in real terror 
You don’t know perhaps, Cecil, that our admirable 
Dora is no end of a coward. I wonder what she 
would have said if I had put a little nest of field-mice 
in her desk ! I saw that the poor thing suspected me, 
as she gave way to her usual little sneer about the 




A Caricature of Mrs. Willis. 91 

‘underbred girl;’ but, of course, know me, Cecil. 
Why, my dear Cecil, what is the matter? How white 
you are, and you are actually crying ! What is it, 
Cecil ? what is it, Cecil, darling ? ” 

Cecil dried her eyes quickly. 

“You know my pet copy of Mrs. Browning’s 
poems, don’t you, Annie ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, of course. You lent it to me one day. 
Don’t you remember how you made me cry over 
that picture of little Alice, the over-worked factory 
girl ? What about the book, Cecil ? 

“ I found the book in my desk,” said Cecil, in a 
steady tone, and now fixing her eyes on Annie, who 
knelt by her side — “ I found the book in my desk, 
although I never keep it there ; for it is quite against 
the rules to keep our recreation books in our school 
desks, and you know, Annie, I always think it is so 
much easier to keep these little rules. They are 
matters of duty and conscience after all. I found my 
copy of Mrs. Browning in my desk this morning with 
the cover torn off, and with a very painful and 
ludicrous caricature of our dear Mrs. Willis sketched 
on the title-page.” 

“ What ? ” said Annie. “ No, no ; impossible !” 

“You know nothing about it, do you, Annie?” 

“I never put it there, if that’s what you mean,” 
said Annie. But her face had undergone a curious 
change. Her light and easy and laughing manner 
had altered. When Cecil mentioned the caricature 
she flushed a vivid crimson. Her flush had quickly 
died away, leaving her olive-tinted face paler than its 
wont. 

“ I see,” she said, after a long pause, “ you, too, 
suspected me, Cecil, and that is why you tried to 


92 


A World of Girls. 


conceal the thing. You know that I am the only 
girl in the school who can draw caricatures, but did 
you suppose that I would show her dishonour ? Of 
course things look ugly for me, if this is what you 
found in your book ; but I did not think that jou 
would suspect me, Cecil.” 

“I will believe you, Annie,” said Cecil eagerly. 
“ I long beyond words to believe you. With all your 
faults, no one has ever yet found you out in a lie. 
If you look at me, Annie, and tell me honestly that 
you know nothing whatever about that caricature, 
I will believe you. Yes, I will believe you fully, 
and I will go with you to Mrs. Willis and tell her 
that, whoever did the wrong, you are innocent in 
this matter. Say you know nothing about it, dear, 
dear Annie, and take a load off my heart.” 

“ I never put the caricature into your book, Cecil.” 

“ And you know nothing about it ? ” 

“ I cannot say that ; I never — never put it in your 
book.” 

“Oh, Annie,” exclaimed poor Cecil, “you are 
trying to deceive me. Why won^t you be brave ? 
Oh, Annie, I never thought you would stoop to a 
lie ! ” 

“ Fm telling no lie,” answered Annie with sudden 
passion. “ I do know something about the carica- 
ture, but I never put it into that book. Th^re ! you 
doubt me, you have ceased to believe me, and I 
won’t waste any more words on the matter.* 


CHAPTER XIV. 

"SENT TO COVENTRY.” 

There were many girls in the school who remem- 
bered that dismal half-holiday — they remembered 
its forced mirth and its hidden anxiety ; and as the 
hours flew by the suspicion that Annie Forest was 
the author of all the mischief grew and deepened. 
A school is like a little world, and popular opinion 
is apt to change with great rapidity. Annie was un- 
doubtedly the favourite of the school ; but favourites 
are certain to have enemies, and there were several 
girls unworthy enough and mean enough to be 
jealous of poor Annie’s popularity. She was the 
kind of girl whom only very small natures could 
really dislike. Her popularity arose from the simple 
fact that hers was a peculiarly joyous and unselfish 
nature. She was a girl with scarcely any self- 
consciousness ; those she loved, she loved devotedly ; 
she threw herself with a certain feverish impetuosity 
into their lives, and made their interests her own. 
To get into mischief and trouble for the sake of a 
friend was an every-day occurrence with Annie. 
She was not the least studious ; she had no one 
particular talent, unless it was an untrained and bird- 
like voice ; she was always more or less in hot water 
about her lessons, always behindhand in her tasks, 
always leaving undone what she should do, and doing 
what she should not do. She was a contradictory, 
erratic creature — ^jealous of no one, envious of no one 
— dearly loving a joke, and many times inflicting 


94 


A World of Girls, 


pain from sheer thoughtlessness, but always ready 
to say she. was sorry, always ready to make friends 
again. 

It is strange that such a girl as Annie should have 
enemies, but she had, and in the last few weeks the 
feeling of jealousy and envy which had always been 
smouldering in some breasts took more active form. 
Two reasons accounted for this : Hesters openly 
avowed and persistent dislike to Annie, and Miss 
Russell’s declared conviction that she was underbred 
and not a lady. 

Miss Russell was the only girl in the first class 
who had hitherto given wild little Annie a thought. 

In the first class, to-day, Annie had to act the 
unpleasing part of the wicked little heroine. Miss 
Russell was quite certain of Annie’s guilt ; she and 
her companions condescended to discuss poor Annie 
and to pull all her little virtues to pieces, and to 
magnify her sins to an alarming extent. 

After two or three hours of judicious conversa- 
tion, Dora Russell and most of the other first-class 
girls decided that Annie ought to be expelled, and 
unanimously resolved that they, at least, would do 
what they could to “ send her to Coventry.” 

In the lower part of the school Annie also had 
a few enemies, and these girls, having carefully 
observed Hester’s attitude towards her, now came 
up. close to this dignified little lady, and asked her 
boldly to declare her opinion with regard to Annie’s 
guilt. 

Hester, without the least hesitation, assured them 
that “ of course Annie had done it.” 

“ There is not room for a single doubt on the 
subject,” she said ; “ there — look at her now.’* 


The Deposed Favourite. 95 

At this instant Annie was leaving Cecil’s com- 
partment, and with red eyes, and hair, as usual, 
falling about her face, was running out of the play- 
room. She seemed in great distress ; but, neverthe- 
less, before she reached the door, she stopped to 
pick up a little girl of five, who was fretting about 
some small annoyance. Annie took the little one 
in her arms, kissed her tenderly, whispered some 
words in her ear, which caused the little face to 
light up with some smiles and the round arms to 
clasp Annie with an ecstatic hug. She dropped 
the child, who ran back to play merrily with her 
companions, and left the room. 

The group of middle-class girls still sat on by 
the fire, but Hester Thornton now, not Annie, was 
the centre of attraction. It was the first time in 
all her young life that Hester had found herself 
in the enviable position of a favourite ; and without 
at all knowing what mischief she was doing, she 
could not resist improving the occasion, and making 
the most of her dislike for Annie. 

Several of those who even were fond of Miss 
Forest came round to the conviction that she was 
really guilty, and one by one, as is the fashion not 
only among school girls but in the greater world 
outside, they began to pick holes in their former 
favourite. These girls, too, resolved that, if Annie 
were really so mean as maliciously to injure other 
girls’ property and get them into trouble, she must 
be “ sent to Coventry.” 

“ What’s Coventry ? ” asked one of the little ones, 
the child whom Annie had kissed and comforted, 
now sidling up to the group. 

“Oh, a nasty place, Phena,” said Mary Bell, 


96 A World of Girls. 

putting her arm round the pretty child and drawing 
her to her side. 

“ And who is going there } ” 

“ Why, I am afraid it is naughty Annie Forest.” 

She’s not naughty ! Annie sha’n’t go to any 
nasty place. I hate you, Mary Bell.” The little 
one looked round the group with flashing eyes of 
defiance, then wrenched herself away to return to her 
younger companions. 

“It was stupid of you to say that, Mary,” re- 
marked one of the girls. “ Well,” she continued, “ I 
suppose it is all settled, and poor Annie, to say the 
least of it, is not a lady. For my own part, I 
always thought her great fun, but if she is proved 
guilty of this offence I wash my hands of her.” 

“We all wash our hands of her,” echoed the 
girls, with the exception of Susan Drummond, who, 
as usual, was nodding in her chair. 

“ What do you say, Susy ? ” asked one or two — 
“ you have not opened your lips all this time.” 

“ I — eh ? — what ? ” , asked Susan, stretching her- 
self and yawning, “ oh, about Annie Forest — I 
suppose you are right, girls. Is not that the tea- 
gong } Pm awfully hungry.” 

Hester Thornton went into the tea-room that 
evening feeling particularly virtuous, and with an 
idea that she had distinguished herself in some way. 

Poor foolish, thoughtless Hester, she little guessed 
what seed she had sown, and what a harvest she 
was preparing for her own reaping by-and-by. 


97 


CHAPTER XV. 

ABOUT SOME PEOPLE WHO THOUGHT NO EVIL. 

A FEW days after this Hester was much delighted 
to receive an invitation from her little friends, the 
Misses Bruce. These good ladies had not forgotten 
the lonely and miserable child whom they had 
comforted not a little during her journey to school 
six weeks ago. They invited Hester to spend the 
next half-holiday with them, and as this happened 
to fall on a Saturday, Mrs. Willis gave Hester per- 
mission to remain with her friends until eight o’clock, 
when she would send the carriage to fetch her 
home. 

The trouble about Annie had taken place the 
Wednesday before, and all the girls’ heads were full 
of the uncleared -up mystery when Hester started on 
her little expedition. 

Nothing was known ; no fresh light had been 
thrown on the subject. Everything went on as usual 
within the school, and a casual observer would never 
have noticed the cloud which rested over that usually 
happy dwelling. A casual observer would have 
noticed little or no change in Annie Forest : her 
merry laugh was still heard, her light step still 
danced across the play-room floor, she was in her 
place in class, and was, if anything, a little more 
attentive and a little more successful over her lessons 
Her pretty, piquant face, her arch expression, the 
bright, quick, and droll glance which she alone could 
give, were still to be seen ; but those who knew her 
G 


98 A World of Girls. 

well and those who loved her best saw a change In 
Annie. 

In the playroom she devoted herself exclusively 
to the little ones ; she never went near Cecil Temple’s 
drawing-room, she never mingled with the girls of 
the middle school as they clustered round the cheerful 
fire. At meal-times she ate little, and her room- 
fellow was heard to declare that she was awakened 
more than once in the middle of the night by the 
sound of Annie’s sobs. In chapel, too, when she 
fancied herself quite unobserved, her face wore an 
expression of great pain ; but if Mrs. Willis happened 
to glance in her direction, instantly the little mouth 
became demure and almost hard, the dark eyelashes 
were lowered over the bright eyes, the whole ex- 
pression of the face showed the extreme of in- 
difference. Hester felt more sure than ever of 
Annie's guilt ; but one or two of the other girls in 
the school wavered in this opinion, and would have 
taken Annie out of “ Coventry ” had she herself made 
the smallest advance towards them. 

Annie and Hester had not spoken to each other 
now for several days ; but on this afternoon, which 
was a bright one in early spring, as Hester was 
changing her school-dress for her Sunday one, and 
preparing for her visit to the Misses Bruce, there 
came a light knock at her door. She said, “ Come in ! ” 
rather impatiently, for she was in a hurry, and dreaded 
being kept. 

To her surprise Annie Forest put in her curly 
head, and then, dancing with her usual light move- 
ment across the room, she laid a little bunch of 
dainty spring flowers on the dressing-table beside 
Hester. 




Ann/e*s Slower Offering. $9 

Hester stared, first at the intruder and then at 
the early primroses. She passionately loved flowers, 
and would have exclaimed with ecstasy at these had 
any one brought them in except Annie. 

“ I want you,” said Annie, rather timidly for her, 
“ to take these flowers from me to Miss Agnes and 
Miss Jane Bruce. It will be very kind of you if 
you will take them. I am sorry to have interrupted 
you — thank you very much.” 

She was turning away when Hester compelled 
herself to remark — 

“Is there any message with the flowers ? ” 

“ Oh, no — only Annie Forest’s love. They’ll 

understand ” she turned half round as she spoke, 

and Hester saw that her eyes had filled with tears. 
She felt touched in spite of herself. There was 
something in Annie’s face now which reminded her 
of her darling little Nan at home. She had seen the 
same beseeching, sorrowful look in Nan’s brown eyes 
when she had wanted her friends to kiss her and take 
her to their hearts and love her. 

Hester would not allow herself, however, to feel 
any tenderness towards Annie. Of course she was 
not really a bit like sweet little Nan, and it was 
absurd to suppose that a great girl like Annie 
could want caressing and petting and soothing ; still, 
in spite of herself, Annie’s look haunted her, and she 
took great care of the little flower-offering, and pre- 
sented it with Annie’s message instantly on her 
arrival to the little old ladies. 

Miss Jane and Miss Agnes were very much 
pleased with the early primroses. They looked at 
one another and said — 

“ Poor dear little girl,” in tender voices, and then 
G 2 


A World of Girls, 


loO 

they put the flowers into one of their daintiest vases, 
and made much of them, and showed them to any 
visitors who happened to call that afternoon. 

Their little house looked something like a doll’s 
house to Hester, who had been accustomed all her 
life to large rooms and spacious passages ; but it was 
the sweetest, daintiest, and most charming little 
abode in the world. It was not unlike a nest, and 
the Misses Bruce in certain ways resembled bright 
little robin redbreasts, so small, so neat, so chirrupy 
they were. 

Hester enjoyed her afternoon immensely ; the 
little ladies were right in their prophecy, and she was 
no longer lonely at school. She enjoyed talking 
about her schoolfellows, about her new life, about her 
studies. The Misses Bruce were decidedly fond of a 
gossip, but something which she could not at all 
define in their manner prevented Hester from retailing 
for their benefit any unkind news. They told her 
frankly at last that they were only interested in the 
good things which went on in the school, and that ' 
they found no pursuit so altogether delightful as find- 
ing out the best points in all the people they came 
across. They would not even laugh at sleepy, tiresome 
Susan Drummond ; on the contrary, they pitied her, 
and Miss Jane wondered if the girl could be quite 
well, whereupon Miss Agnes shook her head, and said 
emphatically that it was Hester’s duty to rouse poor 
Susy, and to make her waking life so interesting to 
her that she should no longer care to spend so many 
hours in the world of dreams. 

There is such a thing as being so kind-hearted, so 
gentle, so charitable as to make the people who have 
not encouraged these virtues feel quite uncomfortable 


A Parcel for Annie. ioi 

By the mere force of contrast they begin to see them- 
selves something as they really are. Since Hester 
had come to Lavender House she had taken very 
little pains to please others rather than herself, and 
she was now almost startled to see how she had allowed 
selfishness to get the better of her. While the Misses 
Bruce were speaking, old longings, which had slept 
since her mother’s death, came back to the young 
girl, and she began to wish that she could be kinder 
to Susan Drummond, and that she could overcome 
her dislike to Annie Forest. She longed to say 
something about Annie to the little ladies, but they 
evidently did not wish to allude to the subject. 
When she was going away, they gave her a small 
parcel. 

“ You will kindly give this to your schoolfellow. 
Miss Forest, Hester dear,” they both said, and then 
they kissed her, and said they hoped they should see 
her again ; and Hester got into the old-fashioned 
school brougham, and held the brown paper parcel 
in her hand. 

As she was going into the chapel that night, Mary 
Bell came up to her and whispered — 

“We have not got to the bottom of that mystery 
about Annie Forest yet. Mrs. Willis can evidently 
make nothing of her, and I believe Mr. Everard is 
going to talk to her after prayers to-night.” 

As she was speaking, Annie herself pushed rather 
rudely past the two girls ; her face was flushed, and 
her hair was even more untidy than was its wont. 

“ Here is a parcel for you. Miss Forest,” said 
Hester, in a much more gentle tone than she was 
wont to use when she addressed this objectionable 
school-mate. 


102 A World of Girls. 

All the girls were now filing into the chapel, and 
Hester should certainly not have presented the little 
parcel at that moment. 

“ Breaking the rules, Miss Thornton,” said Annie ; 
** all right, toss it here.” Then, as Hester failed to 
comply, she ran back, knocking her schoolfellows out 
of place, and, snatching the parcel from Hester’s 
hand, threw it high in the air. This was a piece of 
not only wilful audacity and disobedience; but it even 
savoured of the profane, for Annie’s step was on the 
threshold of the chapel, and the parcel fell with a 
noisy bang on the floor some feet inside the little 
building. 

“ Bring me that parcel, Annie Forest,” whispered 
the stern voice of the head-mistress. 

Annie sullenly complied ; but when she came up to 
Mrs. Willis, her governess took her hand, and pushed 
her down into a low seat a little behind her. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

"AN ENEMY HATH DONE THIS.” 

The short evening service was over, and one by one, 
in orderly procession, the girls left the chapel. Annie 
was about to rise to her feet to follow her school 
companions, when Mrs. Willis stooped down and 
whispered something in her ear. Her face became 
instantly suffused with a dull red ; she resumed her 
seat, and buried her face in both her hands. One or 
two of the girls noticed her despondent attitude as 
they left the chapel, and Cecil Temple looked back 
with a glance of such unutterable sympathy that 


Annie and Mr. Everard. 103 

Annie’s proud, suffering little heart would have been 
touched could she but have seen the look. 

Presently the young steps died away, and Annie, 
raising her head, saw that she was alone with 
Mr. Everard, who seated himself in the place which 
Mrs. Willis had occupied by her side. 

“Your governess has asked me to speak to you, 
my dear,” he said, in his kind and fatherly tones ; 
“ she wants us to discuss this thing which is making 
you so unhappy quite fully together.” Here the 
clergyman paused, and, noticing a sudden wistful and 
soft look in the girl’s brown eyes, he continued : 
“Perhaps, however, you have something to say to 
me which will throw light on this mystery ? ” 

“No, sir, I have nothing to say,” replied Annie, 
and now again the sullen expression passed like a 
wave over her face. 

“ Poor child,” said Mr. Everard. “ Perhaps, Annie,” 
he continued, “ you do not quite understand me — you 
do not quite read my motive in talking to you to-night 
I am not here in any sense to reprove you. You are 
either guilty of this sin, or you are not guilty. In 
either case I pity you ; it is very hard, very bitter, to 
be falsely accused — I pity you much if this is the 
case ; but it is still harder, Annie, still more bitter, still 
more absolutely crushing to be accused of a sin which 
we are trying to conceal. In that terrible case God 
Himself hides His face. Poor child, poor child, I 
pity you most of all if you are guilty.” 

Annie had again covered her face, and bowed her 
head over her hands. She did not speak for a 
moment, but presently Mr. Everard heard a low sob, 
and then another, and another, until at last her whole 
frame was shaken with a perfect tempest of weeping. 


104 


A World of Girls, 


The old clergyman, who had seen many strange 
phases of human nature, who had in his day comforted 
and guided more than one young school girl, was far 
too wise to do anything to check this flow of grief. He 
knew Annie would speak more fully and more frankly 
when her tears were over. He was right. She presently 
raised a very tear-stained face to the clergyman. 

“ I felt very bitter at your coming to speak to me,’* 
she began. “ Mrs. Willis has always sent for you 
when everything else has failed with us girls, and I 
did not think she would treat me so. I was deter- 
mined not to say anything to you. Now, however, 
you have spoken good words to me, and I can’t turn 
away from you. I will tell you all that is in my 
heart. I will promise before God to conceal nothing, 
if only you will do one thing for me.” 

“ What is that, my child } ” 

“ Will you believe me .? ” 

“ Undoubtedly.” 

“ Ah, but you have not been tried yet. I thought 
Mrs. Willis would certainly believe ; but she said the 
circumstantial evidence was too strong — perhaps it 
will be too strong for you.” 

“ I promise to believe you, Annie Forest ; if, before 
God, you can assure me that you are speaking the 
whole truth, I will fully believe you.” 

Annie paused again, then she rose from her seat 
and stood a pace away from the old minister. 

“ This is the truth before God,” she said, as she 
locked her two hands together and raised her eyes 
freely and unshrinkingly to Mr. Everard’s face. 

“ I have always loved Mrs. Willis. I have reasons 
for loving her which the girls don’t know about. The 
girls don’t know that when my mother was dying she 


“/ Told her the Whole Truths 105 

gave me into Mrs. Willis’s charge, and she said, 
‘You must keep Annie until her father comes back.’ 
Mother did not know where father was ; but she said 
he would be sure to come back some day, and look for 
mother and me ; and Mrs. Willis said she would keep 
me faithfully until father came to claim me. That is 
four years ago, and my father has never come, nor 
have I heard of him, and I think, I am almost sure, 
that the little money which mother left must be all 
used up. Mrs. Willis never says anything about 
money, and she did not wish me to tell my story to 
the girls. None of them know except Cecil Temple. 
I am sure some day father will come home, and he 
will give Mrs. Willis back the money she has spent 
on me ; but never, never, never can he repay her for 
her goodness to me. You see I cannot help loving 
Mr^. Willis. It is quite impossible for any girl to 
have such a friend and not to love her. I know I am 
very wild, and that I do all sorts of mad things. It 
seems to me that I cannot help myself sometimes ; 
but I would not willingly, indeed, I would not willingly 
hurt anybody. Last Wednesday, as you know, there 
was a great disturbance in the school. Dora Russell’s 
desk was tampered with, and so was Cecil Temple’s- 
You know, of course, what was found in both the 
desks. Mrs. Willis sent for me, and asked me about 
the caricature which was drawn in Cecil’s book. I 
looked at it and I told her the truth. I did not 
conceal one thing. I told her the whole truth as far 
as I knew it. She did not believe me. She said so. 
What more could I do then ? ” 

Here Annie paused, she began to unclasp and 
clasp her hands, and she looked full at Mr. Everard 
with a most pleading expression. 


A World of Girls. 


io6 

" Do you mind repeating to me exactly what you 
said to your governess ? ” he questioned. 

“I said this, sir. I said, ‘Yes, Mrs. Willis, I did 
draw that caricature. You will scarcely understand 
how I, who love you so much, could have been so mad 
and ungrateful as to do anything to turn you into 
ridicule. I would cut off my right hand now not to 
have done it ; but I did do it, and I must tell you the 
truth.* ‘ Tell me, dear,’ she said, quite gently then. 
‘ It was one wet afternoon about a fortnight ago,’ I 
said to her ; ‘ a lot of us middle-school girls were 
sitting together, and I had a pencil and some bits of 
paper, and I was making up funny little groups of a 
lot of us, and the girls were screaming with laughter, 
for somehow I managed to make the likeness that I 
wanted in each case. It was very wrong of me, I 
know. It was against the rules ; but I was in one of 
my maddest humours, and I really did not care what 
the consequences were. At last one of the girls said. 
‘ You won’t dare to make a picture like that of Mrs. 
Willis, Annie — you know you won’t dare.’ The 
minute she said that name I began to feel ashamed. 
I remembered I was breaking one of the rules, and I 
suddenly tore up all my bits of paper and flung them 
into the fire, and I said, ‘ No, I would not dare to show 
her dishonour.’ Well, afterwards, as I was washing 
my hands for tea up in my room, the temptation came 
over me so strongly that I felt I could not resist it, to 
make a funny little sketch of Mrs. Willis. I had a 
little scrap of thin paper, and I took out my pencil 
and did it all in a minute. It seemed to me very 
funny, and I could not help laughing at it ; and then 
I thrust it into my private writing-case, which I always 
keep locked, and I put the key in my pocket and ran 








A nnie's S tor y, 1 07 

downstairs. I forgot all about the caricature. I had 
never shown it to any one. How it got into Cecil’s 
book is more than I can say. When I had finished 
speaking Mrs. Willis looked very hard at the book. 
‘ You are right/ she said ; ‘ this caricature is drawn on 
a very thin piece of paper, which has been cleverly 
pasted on the title-page.’ Then, Mr. Everard, she 
asked me a lot of questions. Had I ever parted with 
my keys? Had I ever left my desk unlocked? ‘No,’ 
I said, ‘my desk is always locked, and my keys are 
always in my pocket. Indeed,’ I added, ‘ my keys were 
absolutely safe for the last week, for they went in a 
white petticoat to the wash, and came back as rusty 
as possible.’ I could not open my desk for a whole 
week, which was a great nuisance. I told all this 
story to Mrs. Willis, and she said to me, ‘You are 
positively certain that this caricature has been taken 
out of your desk by somebody else, and pasted in 
here. You are sure that the caricature you drew is 
not to be found in your desk?’ ‘ Yes,’ I said ; ‘ how 
can I be anything but sure : these are my pencil marks, 
and that is the funny little turn I gave to your neck 
which made me laugh when I drew it. Yes ; I am 
certainly sure.’ ” 

“‘I have always been told, Annie,’ Mrs. Willis 
said, ‘ that you are the only girl in the school who 
can draw these caricatures. You have never seen an 
attempt at this kind of drawing amongst your school- 
fellows, or amongst any of the teachers ? ’ 

“ ‘ I have never seen any of them try this special 
kind of drawing,’ I said. ‘ I wish I was like them. 
I wish I had never, never done it.’ 

“ ‘ You have got your keys now ? ’ Mrs. Willis 


said. 


io 8 A World of Girls. 

“‘Yes/ I answered, pulling them all covered with 
rust out of my pocket. 

“ Then she told me to leave the keys on the table, 
and to go upstairs and fetch down my little private 
desk. 

“I did so, and she made me put the rusty key in 
the lock and open the desk, and together we searched 
through its contents. We pulled out everything, or 
rather I did, and I scattered all my possessions about 
on the table, and then I looked up almost triumphantly 
at Mrs. Willis. 

“‘You see the caricature is not here/ I said, 
‘somebody picked the lock and took it away.* 

“ ‘ This lock has not been picked/ Mrs. Willis said, 
‘ and what is that little piece of white paper sticking 
out of the private drawer ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh, I forgot my private drawer,* I said ; ‘ but 
there is nothing in it — nothing whatever/ and then I 
touched the spring, and pulled it open, and there lay 
the little caricature which I had drawn in the bottom 
of the drawer. There it lay, not as I had left it, for I 
had never put it into the private drawer. I saw Mrs. 
Willis’s face turn very white, and I noticed that her 
hands trembled. I was all red myself, and very hot, 
and there was a choking lump in my throat, and I 
could not have got a single word out even if I had 
wished to. So I began scrambling the things back 
into my desk, as hard as ever I could, and then I 
locked it, and put the rusty keys back in my 
pocket. 

“ ‘ What am I to believe now, Annie ? * Mrs. Willis 
said. 

“ ‘ Believe anything you like now,^ I managed to 
say ; and then I took my desk and walked out of the 


No Explanation. 


109 

room, and would not wait even though she called me 
back. 

“ That is the whole story, Mr. Everard,” continued 
Annie. “ I have no explanation whatever to give. I 
did make the one caricature of my dear governess. I 
did not make the other. The second caricature is 
certainly a copy of the first, but I did not make it. I 
don’t know who made it. I have no light whatever 
to throw on the subject. You see after all,” added 
Annie Forest, raising her eyes to the clergyman’s 
face, “ it is impossible for you to believe me. Mrs. 
Willis does not believe me, and you cannot be expected 
to. I don’t suppose you are to be blamed. I don’t 
see how you can help yourself” 

“ The circumstantial evidence is very strong 
against you, Annie,” replied the clergyman ; ” still, I 
promised to believe, and I have no intention of going 
back from my word. If, in the presence of God in 
this little church you would willingly and deliberately 
tell me a lie I should never trust human being again. 
No, Annie Forest, you have many faults, but you are 
not a liar. I see the impress of truth on your brow, 
in your eyes, on your lips. This is a very painful 
mystery, my child ; but I believe you. I am going to 
see Mrs. Willis now. God bless you, Annie. Be 
brave, be courageous, don’t foster malice in your heart 
to any unknown enemy. An enemy has truly done 
this thing, poor child ; but God Himself will bring this 
mystery to light. Trust Him, my dear ; and now I 
am going to see Mrs. Willis.^* 

While Mr. Everard was- speaking, Annie^s whole 
expressive face had changed ; the sullen look had 
left it ; the eyes were bright with renewed hope ; the 
lips had parted in smiles. There was a struggle for 


no 


A World of Girls, 


speech, but no words came ; the young girl stooped 
down and raised the old clergyman’s withered hands 
to her lips. 

“ Let me stay here a little longer,” she managed to 
say at last ; and then he left her. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

“THE SWEETS ARE POISONED.” 

“I THINK, my dear madam,” said Mr. Everard to 
Mrs. Willis, “ that you must believe your pupil. She 
has not refused to confess to you from any stubborn- 
ness, but from the simple reason that she has nothing 
,to confess. I am firmly convinced that things are as 
she stated them, Mrs. Willis. There is a mystery 
here which we neither of us can explain, but which 
we must unravel.” 

Then Mrs. Willis and the clergyman had a long 
and anxious talk together. It lasted for a long time, 
and some of its results at least were manifest the next 
morning, for, just before the morning’s work began, 
Mrs. Willis came to the large schoolroom, and, calling 
Annie Forest to her side, laid her hand on the young 
girl’s shoulder. 

“ I wish to tell you all, young ladies,” she said, 
“ that I completely and absolutely exonerate Annie 
Forest from having any part in the disgraceful 
occurrence which took place in this schoolroom a 
short time ago I allude, of course, as you all know, 
to the book which was found tampered with in Cecil 
Temple’s desk. Some one else in this room is guilty, 
and the mystery has still to be unravelled, and the 


Quite Innocent.^* 


in 


guilty girl has still to come forward and declare her- 
self. If she is willing at this moment to come to me 
here, and fully and freely confess her sin, I will quite 
forgive, her.” 

The head mistress paused, and, still with her hand 
on Annie’s shoulder, looked anxiously down the long 
room. The love and forgiveness which she felt shone 
in her eyes at this moment. No girl need have feared 
aught but tenderness from her just then. 

No one stirred ; the moment passed, and a look of 
sternness returned to the mistress’s fine face. 

“ No,” she said, in her emphatic and clear tones, 
“ the guilty girl prefers waiting until God discovers her 
sin for her. My dear, whoever you are, that hour is 
coming, and you cannot escape from it. In the mean- 
time, girls, I wish you all to receive Annie Forest as 
quite innocent. I believe in her, so does Mr. Everard, 
and so must you. Any one who treats Miss Forest 
except as a perfectly innocent and truthful girl incurs 
my severe displeasure. My dear, you may return to 
your seat.” 

Annie, whose face was partly hidden by her curly 
hair during the greater part of this speech, now tossed 
it back, and raised her brown eyes with a look of 
adoration in them to her teacher. Mrs. Willis’s face, 
however, still looked harassed. Her eyes met Annie’s, 
but no corresponding glow was kindled in them ; their 
glance was just, calm, but cold. 

The childish heart was conscious of a keen pang 
of agony, and Annie went back to her lessons without 
any sense of exultation. 

The fact was this : Mrs. Willis’s judgment and 
reason had been brought round by Mr. Everard’s 
words, but in her heart of hearts, almost unknown to 


112 


A World of Girls, 


herself, there still lingered a doubt of the innocence of 
her wayward and pretty pupil. She said over and 
over to herself that she really now quite believed in 
Annie Forest, but then would come those whisperings 
from her pained and sore heart. 

“ Why did she ever make a caricature of one who 
has been as a mother to her.? If she made one 
caricature, could she not make another .? Above all 
things, if she did not do it, who did ? ” 

Mrs. Willis turned away from these unpleasant 
whispers — she would not let them stay with her, and 
turned a deaf ear to their ugly words. She had 
publicly declared in the school her belief in Annie’s 
absolute innocence, but at the moment when her pupil 
looked up at her with a world of love and adoration 
in her gaze, she found to her own infinite distress that 
she could not give her the old love. 

Annie went back to her companions, and bent 
her head over her lessons, and tried jto believe that 
she was very thankful and very happy, and Cecil 
Temple managed to whisper a gentle word of con- 
gratulation to her, and at the twelve o’clock walk 
Annie perceived that a few of her schoolfellows looked 
at her with friendly eyes again. She perceived now 
that when she went into the playroom she was not 
absolutely tabooed, and that, if she chose, she might 
speedily resume her old reign of popularity. Annie 
had, to a remarkable extent, the gift of inspiring love, 
and her old favourites would quickly have flocked 
back to their sovereign had she so willed it. It is 
certainly true that the girls to whom the whole story 
was known in all its bearings found it difficult to 
understand how Annie could be innocent ; but Mr. 
Everard’s and Mrs. Willis’s assertions were too potent 


t^'i 7 sy*s Congratulation. 113 

to be disregarded, and most of the girls were only too 
willing to let the whole affair slide from their minds, 
and to take back their favourite Annie to their hearts 
again. 

Annie, however, herself did not so will it In the 
playroom she fraternised with the little ones who 
were alike her friends in adversity and sunshine ; 
she rejected almost coldly the overtures of her old 
favourites, but played, and romped, and was merry 
with the children of the sixth class. She even 
declined Cecil’s invitation to come and sit with her in 
her drawing-room. 

“ Oh, no,” she said. “ I hate being still ; I am in 
no humour for a talk. Another time, Cecil, another 
time. Now then, Sybil, my beauty, get well on 
my back, and I’ll be the willing dog carrying you 
round and round the room.” 

Annie’s face had not a trace of care or anxiety 
on it, but her eyes would not quite meet CeciFs, 
and Cecil sighed as she turned away, and her heart, 
too, began to whisper little, mocking, ugly doubts of 
poor Annie. 

During the half-hour before tea that evening 
Annie was sitting on the floor with a small child in 
her lap, and two other little ones tumbling about 
her, when she was startled by a shower of lollipops 
being poured over her head, down her neck, and into 
her lap. She started up and met the sleepy gaze of 
Susan Drummond. 

“ That’s to congratulate you. Miss,” said Susan ; 
“you’re a very lucky girl to have escaped as you 
did.” 

The little ones began putting Susan’s lollipops 
vigorously into their mouths. Annie sprang to her 

H 


A World of Girls, 


1 14 

feet, shaking the sticky sweetmeats out of her dress 
on to the floor. 

What have I escaped from ? ” she asked, turning 
round and facing her companion haughtily. 

“ Oh, dear meT’ said Susan, stepping back a 
pace or two. “ I — ah — ” stifling a yawn — “ I only 
meant you were very near getting into an ugly scrape. 
It’s no affair of mine, Fm sure ; only I thought you’d 
like the lollipops.” 

“No, I don’t like them at all,” said Annie, “nor 
you either. Go back to your own companions, 
please.” 

Susan sulkily walked away, and Annie stooped * 
down on the floor. 

“ Now, little darlings,” she said, “ you mustn’t 
eat those. No, no, they are not good at all ; and they 
have come from one of Annie’s enemies. Most 
likely they are full of poison. Let us collect them 
all, every one, and we will throw them into the fire 
before we go to tea.” 

“ But I don’t think there’s any poison in them,*’ 
said little Janie West in a regretful tone, as she 
gobbled down a particularly luscious chocolate cream ; 

“ they are all big, and fat, and bursty, and so sweet, 
Annie, dear.” 

“ Never mind, Janie, they are dangerous sweeties 
all the same. Come, come, throw them into my 
apron, and I will run over and toss them into the 
fire, and we’ll have time for a game of leap-frog 
before tea ; oh, fie, Judy,” as a very small fat baby 
began to whimper, “you would not eat the sweeties of 
one of Annie’s enemies.” 

This last appeal was successful. The children 
made a valiant effort, and dashed the tempting 




The Coming of the Spring. 115 

goodies into Annie’s alpaca apron. When they were 
all collected, she marched up the playroom and in 
the presence of Susan Drummond, Hester Thornton, 
Cecil Temple, and several more of her school com- 
panions, threw them into the fire. 

“ So much for that overture. Miss Drummond,” 
she said, making a mock curtsey, and returning once 
more to the children. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

IN THE HAMMOCK. 

Just at this time the weather suddenly changed. 
After the cold and dreariness of winter came soft 
spring days — came longer evenings and brighter 
mornings. 

Hester Thornton found that she could dress by 
daylight, then that she was no longer cold and shiver- 
ing when she reached the chapel, then that she 
began intensely to enjoy her mid-day walk, then that 
she found her winter things a little too hot, until at 
t last, almost suddenly it seemed to the expectant and 
anxious girls, glorious spring weather broke upon the 
world, the winds were soft and westerly, the buds 
swelled and swelled into leaf on the trees, and the 
flowers bloomed in the delightful old-fashioned 
gardens of Lavender House. Instantly, it seemed 
to the girls, their whole lives had altered. The play- 
room was deserted or only put up with on wet days. 
At twelve o’clock, instead of taking a monotonous 
walk on the roads, they ran races, played tennis, 
croquet, or any other game they liked best in the 
H 2 


ii 6 A World op Girls 

gardens. Later on in the day, when the sun was not 
so powerful, they took their walk ; but even then they 
had time to rush back to their beloved shady garden 
for a little time before tea and preparation for their 
next day^s work. Easter came this year about the 
middle of April, and Easter found these girls almost 
enjoying summer weather. How they looked forward 
to their few Easter holidays ! what plans they made, 
what tennis matches were arranged, what games and 
amusements of all sorts were in anticipation ! Mrs. 
Willis herself generally went away for a few days at 
Easter ; so did the French governess, and the school 
was nornimally placed under the charge of Miss Good 
and Miss Danesbury. Mrs. Willis did not approve of 
long Easter holidays ; she never gave more than a 
week, and in consequence only the girls who lived 
quite near went home. Out of the fifty girls who 
resided at Lavender House about ten went away at 
Easter ; the remaining forty stayed behind, and were 
often heard to declare that holidays at Lavender 
House were the most delightful things in the world. 

At this particular Easter time the girls were .rather 
surprised to hear that Mrs. Willis had made up her 
mind not to go away as usual ; Miss Good was to 
have a holiday, and Mrs. Willis and Miss Danesbury 
Avere to look after the school. This was felt to be an 
unusual, indeed unheard-of, proceeding, and the girls 
commented about it a good deal, and somehow, 
without absolutely intending to do so, they began to 
settle in their own minds that Mrs. Willis was staying 
in the school on account of Annie Forest, and that in 
her heart of hearts she did not absolutely believe in 
her innocence. Mrs. Willis certainly gave the girls no 
reason to come to this conclusion ; she was con- 


Oh ! IT IS Hard!^ 


117 

sistently kind to Annie, and had apparently quite 
restored her to 1 er old place in her favour. Annie 
was more gentle than of old, and less inclined to 
get into scrapes ; but the girls loved her far less in 
her present unnatural condition of reserve and good 
behaviour than they did in her old daring and 
hoydenish days. Cecil Temple always spent Easter 
with an old aunt who lived in a neighbouring town ; 
she openly said this year that she did not wish to go 
away, but her governess would not allow her to 
change her usual plans, and she left Lavender House 
with a curious feeling of depression and coming 
trouble. As she was getting into the cab which was 
to take her to the station Annie flew to her side, 
threw a great bouquet of flowers which she had 
gathered into her lap, and, flinging her arms tightly 
round her neck, whispered suddenly and passionately : 

“ Oh, Cecil, believe in me.” 

“ I — I — I donT know that I don’t,” said Cecil, 
rather lamely. 

“ No, Cecil, you don’t — not in your heart of hearts. 
Neither you nor Mrs. Willis — you neither of you 
believe in me from the very bottom of your hearts ; 
oh, it is hard ! ” 

Annie gave vent to a little sob, sprang away 
from Cecil’s arms, and disappeared into a shrubbery 
close by. 

She stayed there until the sound of the retreating 
cab died away in the avenue, then, tossing back her 
hair, rearranging her rather tattered garden hat, and 
hastily wiping some tears from her eyes, she came out 
from her retreat, and began to look around her for 
some amusement. What should she do.? Where 
should she go ? How should she occupy herself ? 


Ii8 


A World of Girls. 


Sounds of laughter and merriment filled the air ; the 
garden was all alive with gay young figures running 
here and there. Girls stood in groups under the 
horse chestnut tree — girls walked two and two up the 
shady walk at the end of the garden — little ones 
gambolled and rolled on the grass — a tennis match 
was going on vigorously, and the croquet ground was 
occupied by eight girls of the middle school. Annie 
was one of the most successful tennis players in the 
school ; she had indeed a gift for all games of skill, 
and seldom missed her mark. Now she looked with 
a certain wistful longing towards the tennis-court ; 
but, after a brief hesitation, she turned away from it 
and entered the shady walk at the farther end of the 
garden. As she walked along, slowly, meditatively, 
and sadly, her eyes suddenly lighted up. Glancing to 
one of the tall trees she saw a hammock suspended 
there which had evidently been forgotten during the 
winter. The tree was not yet quite in leaf, and it was 
very easy for Annie to climb up its branches, to re- 
adjust the hammock, and to get into it. After its 
winter residence in the tree this soft couch was found 
full of withered leaves, and otherwise rather damp 
and uncomfortable. Annie tossed the leaves on to 
the ground, and laughed as she swung herself gently 
backwards and forwards. Early as the season still 
was the sun was so bright and the air so soft that she 
could not but enjoy herself, and she laughed with 
pleasure, and only wished that she had a fairy tale by 
her side to help to soothe her off to sleep. 

In the distance she heard some children calling 
“ Annie,” Annie Forest ; ” but she was far too com- 
fortable and too lazy to answer them, and presently 
she closed her eyes and really did fall asleep. 



"TWO GIRLS . 


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What Annie Overhearh, 419 

She was awakened by a very slight sound — by 
nothing more nor less than the gentle and very refined 
conversation of two girls, who sat under the oak 
tree in which Annie’s hammock swung. Hearing the 
voices, she bent a little forward, and saw that the 
speakers were Dora Russell and Hester Thornton. 
Her first inclination was to laugh, toss down some 
leaves, and instantly reveal herself ; the next she 
drew back hastily, and began to listen with all her ears. 

“ I never liked her,” said Hester — “ I never even 
from the very first pretended to like her. I think 
she is under-bred,^ and not fit to associate with the 
other girls in the schoolroom.” 

“ She is treated with most unfair partiality,” 
retorted Miss Russell in her thin and rather bitter 
voice. “ I have not the smallest doubt, not the small- 
est, that she was guilty of putting those messes into 
rny desk, of destroying my composition, and of cari- 
caturing Mrs. Willis in Cecil Temple’s book. I 
wonder after that Mrs. Willis did not see through 
her, but it is astonishing to what lengths favouritism 
will carry one. Mrs. Willis and Mr. Everard are 
behaving in a very unfair way to the rest of us in 
upholding this commonplace, disagreeable girl ; but 
it will be to Mrs. Willis’s own disadvantage. Hester, 
I am, as you know, leaving school at Midsummer, 
and I shall certainly use all my influence to induce 
my father and mother not to send the younger girls 
here ; they could not associate with a person like 
Miss Forest.” 

“ I never take much notice of her,” said' Hester ; 
“ but of course what you say is quite right, Dora. 
You have great discrimination, and your sisters might 
possibly be taken in by her.” 


120 


A World of Girls. 


“ Oh, not at all, I assure you ; they know a 
true lady when they see her. However, they must 
not be imptrilled. I will ask my parents to send 
them to Mdlle. Lablanchd. I hear that her establish- 
ment is most recherche y 

“Mrs. Willis is very nice herself, and so are 
most of the girls,” said Hester, after a pause. Then 
they were both silent, for Hester had stooped down 
to examine some little fronds and moss which 
grew at the foot of the tree. After a pause, Hester 
said — 

“ I don’t think Annie is the favourite she was with 
the girls.” 

“ Oh, of course not ; they all, in their heart of 
hearts, know she is guilty. Will you come indoors, 
and have tea with me in my drawing-room, Hester } ” 

The two girls walked slowly away, and presently 
Annie let herself gently out of her hammock and 
dropped to the ground. 

She had heard every word ; she had not revealed 
herself, and a new and terrible — and, truth to say, 
absolutely foreign — sensation from her true nature 
now filled her mind. She felt that she almost hated 
those two who had spoken so cruelly, so unjustly of 
her. She began to trace her misfortunes and her 
unhappiness to the date of Hester’s entrance into 
the school. Even more than Dora Russell did she 
dislike Hester ; she made up her mind to revenge 
herself on both these girls. Her heart was very, very 
sore ; she missed the old words, the old love, the 
old brightness, the old popularity ; she missed the 
mother-tones in Mrs. Willis’s voice — her heart cried 
out for them, at night she often wept for them. 
She became more and more sure that she owed all 


A Meditated Revenge. 12 i 

her misfortunes to Hester, and in a smaller degree 
to Dora. Dora believed that she had deliberately- 
insulted her, and injured her composition, when 
she knew herself that she was quite innocent of 
even harbouring such a thought, far less carrying 
it into effect. Well, now, she would really do some- 
thing to injure both these girls, and perhaps the 
carrying out of her revenge would satisfy her sore 
heart 


CHAPTER XIX. 

CUP AND BALL. 

Just towards the end of the Easter holidays, Hester 
Thornton was thrown into a great tumult of excite- 
ment, of wonder, of half regret and half joy, by a letter 
which she received from her father. In this letter he 
informed her that he had made up his mind to break 
up his establishment for several years, to go abroad, 
and to leave Hester altogether under Mrs. Willis’s 
care. 

When Hester had read so far, she flung her letter 
on the table, put her head into her hands, and burst 
into tears. 

“ Oh, how cruel of father ! ” she exclaimed ; how 
am I to live without ever going home — how am I to 
endure life without seeing my little Nan?” 

Hester cried bitterly ; the strongest love of her 
nature was now given to this pretty and sweet little 
sister, and dismal pictures rose rapidly before her 
of Nan growing up without in the least remembering 
her — perhaps, still worse, of Nan being unkindly 


122 


A World of Girls. 


treated and neglected by strangers. After a long 
pause, she raised her head, wiped her eyes, and 
resumed her letter. Now, indeed, she started with 
astonishment, and gave an exclamation of delight — 
Sir John Thornton had arranged that Mrs. Willis 
was also to receive little Nan, although she was 
younger than any other child present in the school. 
Hester scarcely waited to finish her letter. She 
crammed it into her pocket, rushed up to Susan 
Drummond, and astonished that placid young lady 
by suddenly kissing her. 

“Nanis coming, Susy!’* she exclaimed; “dear, 
darling, lovely little Nan is coming — oh, I am so 
happy ! ” 

She was far too impatient to explain matters to 
stolid Susan, and danced down-stairs, her eyes 
sparkling and smiles on her lips. It was nothing to 
her now how long fehe stayed at school — her heart’s 
treasure would be with her there, and she could not 
but feel happy. 

After breakfast Mrs. Willis sent for her, and told 
her what arrangements were being made ; she said 
that she was going to remove Susan Drummond out 
of Hester’s bedroom, in order that Hester might enjoy 
her little sister’s company at night. She spoke very 
gently, and entered with full sympathy into the girl’s 
delight over the little motherless sister, and Hester felt 
more drawn to her governess than she had ever been. 

Nan was to arrive at Lavender House on the 
following evening, and for the first week her nurse 
was to remain with her until she got accustomed to 
her new life. 

The morning of the day of Nan^s arrival was also 
the last of the Easter holidays, and Hester, awakening 






Hardening her Heart. 123 

earlier than her wont, lay in bed, and planned what 
she would do to welcome the little one. 

The idea of having Nan with her continually had 
softened and touched Hester. She was not unhappy 
in her school-life — indeed, there was much in its 
monotonous, busy, and healthy occupation to stimulate 
and rouse the good in her. Her intellect was being 
vigorously exercised, and, by contact with her school- 
fellows, her character was being moulded ; but the 
perfect harmony and brightness of the school had 
been much interrupted since Hester’s arrival ; her 
dislike to Annie Forest had been unfortunate in more 
ways than one, and that dislike, which was increasing 
each day, was hardening Hester’s heart. 

But it was not hard this morning — all that was 
sweetest, and softest, and best in her had come to the 
surface — the little sister, whom her mother had left in 
her charge, was now to be her daily and hourly com- 
panion. For Nan’s sake, then, she must be very good; 
her deeds must be gentle and kind, and her thoughts 
charitable. Hester had an instinctive feeling that 
baby eyes saw deep below the surface ; Hester felt 
if Nan were to lose even a shadow of her faith in her 
she could almost die of shame. 

Hester had been very proud of Dora Russell’s 
friendship. Never before had it been known in the 
school that a first-class girl took a third into such 
close companionship, and Hester’s little head had 
been slightly turned by the fact. Her better judgment 
and her better nature had been rather blinded by the 
fascinations of this tall, graceful, satirical Dora. She 
had been weak enough to agree with Dora with her 
lips when in her heart of hearts she knew she was all 
wrong. By nature Hester was an honourable girl, 


124 ' 


A World of Girl$. 


with many fine traits in her character — by nature 
Dora was small and mean and poor of soul. 

This morning Hester ran up to her favourite. 

Little Nan is coming to-night,” she said. 

Dora was talking at the moment to Miss Maitland, 
another first-class girl, and the two stared rather 
superciliously at Hester, and, after a pause, Dora said 
in her finest drawl — 

“ Who is little Nan ? ” 

It was Hester’s turn to stare, for she had often 
spoken of Nan to this beloved friend, who had listened 
to her narrative and had appeared to sympathise. 

“ My little sister, of course,” she exclaimed. “ I 
have often talked to you about her, Dora. Are you 
not glad she is coming } ” 

“ No, my dear child, I can’t say that I am. If you 
wish to retain my friendship, Hester, you must be 
careful to keep the little mite away from me ; I can’t 
bear small children.” 

Hester walked away with her heart swelling, and 
she fancied she heard the two elder girls laughing as 
she left the playroom. 

Many other girls, however, in the school thoroughly- 
sympathised with Hester, and amongst them no one 
was more delighted than Susan Drummond. 

“ I am awfully good-natured not to be as cross as 
two sticks, Hetty,” she exclaimed, “for I am being 
turned out of my comfortable room ; and whose room 
do you suppose I am now to share } why, that little 
imp Annie Forest’s.” But Hester felt charitable, even 
towards Annie, on this happy day. 

In the evening little Nan arrived. She was a very 
pretty, dimpled, brown-eyed creature, of just three 
years of age. She had all the imperious ways of a 


A Baby Reign. 


125 


spoilt baby, and, evidently, fear was a word not to be 
found in her vocabulary. She clung to Hester, but 
smiled and nodded to the other girls, who made 
advances to her, and petted her, and thought her a 
very charming baby. Beside Nan, all the other little 
girls in the school looked old. She was quite two 
years the youngest, and it was soon very evident that 
she would establish that most imperious of all reigns 
— a baby reign — in the school. 

Hester fondled her and talked to her, and the little 
thing sat on her knee and stroked her face. 

“Me like ’00, Hetty,” she said several times, and 
she added many other endearing and pretty words 
which caused Hester’s heart to swell with delight. 

In the midst of their happy little talk together 
Annie Forest, in her usual careless fashion, entered 
the playroom. She alone, of all the girls, had taken 
no notice of the new plaything. She walked to her 
usual corner, sat down on the floor, and began to play 
cup and ball for the benefit of two or three of the 
smallest children. Hester did not regard her in the 
least ; she sat with Nan on her knee, stroking back 
her sunny curls, and remarking on her various charms 
to several of the girls who sat round her. 

“ See, how pretty that dimple in her chin is,” she 
said, “ and oh, my pet, your eyes look wiser, and bigger, 
and saucier than ever. Look at me. Nan ; look at 
your own Hetty.” 

Nan’s attention, however, was diverted by the 
gaily-painted cup and ball which Annie was using 
with her wonted dexterity. 

“ Dat a pitty toy,” she said, giving one quick and 
rather solemn glance at her sister, and again fixing her 
admiring gaze on the cup and balk 


126 


A World of Girls, 


Annie Forest had heard the words, and she darted 
a sudden, laughing look at the little one. Annie’s 
power over children was well known. Nan began to 
wriggle on Hester’s knee. 

“ Dat a pitty lady,” she said again, “ and that a 
pitty, tibby [little] toy ; Nan go see.” 

“ In an instant, before Hester could prevent hen 
she had trotted across the room, and was kneeling 
with the other children and shouting with delight over 
Annie’s play. 

“ She’ll get her, you’ll see, Hester,” said one of the 
girls maliciously ; “ she’ll soon be much fonder of 
Annie Forest than of you. Annie wins the heart of 
every little child in the school.’"’ 

“ She won’t win my Nan’s from me,” said Hester 
in a confident tone ; but in spite of her words a great 
pang of jealousy had gone through her. She rose to 
her feet and followed her little sister. 

“ Nan, you are sleepy, you must go to bed.” 

“ No, no, Hetty ; me not s’eepy, me kite awake ; 
go Vay, Hetty, Nan want to see the pitty tibby toy.” 

Annie raised her eyes to Hester’s. She did not 
really want to be unkind, and at that moment it had 
certainly never entered into her head to steal Hester’s 
treasure from her, but she could not help a look of 
suppressed delight and triumph filling her eyes. 

Hester could scarcely be^r the look ; she stooped 
down, and taking one of Nan^s little dimpled hands 
tried to drag her away. 

Instantly Annie threw the cup and ball on the 
floor. 

“ The play is all over to-night, little darling,” she 
said ; “ give Annie Forest one kiss, and run to bed 
with sister Hester/* 


The Day of Days. 127 

Nan, who had been pucker' up her face to cry, 
smiled instantly ; then she scrambled to her feet, and 
flung her little fat arms round Annie’s neck. 

Dat a vedy pitty p’ay,” she said in a patronising 
tone, “ and me like ’00, me do.” 

Then she gave her hand willingly to Hester, and 
trotted out of the playroom by her side. 


CHAPTER XX. 

IN THE SOUTH PARLOUR. 

Immediately after Easter the real excitement of 
the school-year began. All the girls who had am- 
bition, who had industry, and who had a desire to 
please distant fathers, mothers, or guardians, worked 
hard for that great day at Midsummer when Mrs. 
Willis distributed her valuable prizes. 

From the moment of Hester’s entrance into the 
school she had heard this day spoken of. Tt was, 
without doubt, the greatest day of the year at 
Lavender House. Smaller prizes were given at 
Christmas, but the great honours were always re- 
served for this long sunshiny June day, when 
Mrs. Willis herself presented her marks of approba- 
tion to her successful pupils. 

The girls who had lived in the school for two or 
three years gave Hester vivid descriptions of the 
excitements, the pleasures, the delights of this day 
of days. In the first place it was the first of the 
holidays, in the second it was spent almost from 
morning to night in the open air — for a great tent 
was erected on the lawn; and visitors thronged to 




•'TV 




128 A World of Girls, 

Lavender House, and fathers and mothers, and 
aunts and uncles, arrived from a distance to witness 
the triumphs of the favoured children who had 
won the prizes. The giving away of the prizes 
was, of course, ^/le event of the day ; but there were 
many other minor joys. Always in the evenings 
there was some special entertainment These en- 
tertainments differed from year to year, Mrs. Willis 
allowing the girls to choose them for themselves, 
and only making one proviso, that they must take 
all the trouble, and all the pains — in short, that they 
themselves must be the entertainers One year they 
had tableaux vivants ; another a fancy ball, every 
pretty dress of which had been designed by them- 
selves, and many even made by their own industrious 
little fingers Mrs. Willis delighted in the interest 
and occupation that this yearly entertainment gave 
to her pupils, and she not only encouraged them 
in their efforts to produce something very unique 
and charming, but took care that they should have 
sufficient time to work up their ideas properly. 
Always after Easter she gave the girls of the three 
first classes two evenings absolutely to 'themselves; 
and these they spent in a pretty room called 
the South Parlour, which belonged to Mrs. Willis’s 
part of the house, and was rarely used, except for 
these great preparations. 

Hester, therefore, after Easter found her days 
very full indeed. Every spare moment she devoted 
to little Nan, but she was quite determined to win 
a substantial prize, and she was also deeply interested 
in various schemes proposed in the South Parlour. 

With regard to prizes, Mrs. Willis also went on 
a plan of her own. Each girl was expected to come 


The English Composition Prize, 1^9 


up to a certain standard of excellence in all her 
studies, and if she fell very much below this standard 
she was not allowed to try for any prize ; if she 
came up to it, she could select one subject, but 
only one, for competition. 

On the Monday after the Easter holidays the 
special subjects for the Midsummer prizes were 
given out, and the girls were expected to send in 
their answers as to the special prize they meant to 
compete for by the following Friday. 

When this day arrived Hester Thornton and 
Dora Russell both discovered that they had made 
the same choice — they were going to try for the 
English composition prize. This subject always ob- 
tained one of the most costly prizes, and several of 
the girls shook their heads over Hester’s choice. 

“ You are very silly to try for that, Hetty,” they 
exclaimed, “ for Mrs. Willis has such queer ideas 
with regard to English composition. Of course, we 
go in for it in a general way, and learn the rules of 
grammar and punctuation, and so forth, but Mrs. 
Willis says that school-girls’ themes are so bad 
and affected, as a rule, and she says she does not 
think any one will go in for her pet prize who 
has not natural ability. In consequence, she gives 
only one prize for composition between the three 
first classes. You had better change your mind, 
Hetty, before it is too late, for much older girls 
will compete with you, and there are several who 
are going to try.” 

Hester, however, only smiled, and assured her 
eager friend that she would stick to her pet subject, 
and try to do the best she could. 

On the morning when the girls signified their 

I 


130 


A World of Girls. 


choice of subject, Mrs. Willis came into the school- 
room and made one of her little yearly speeches 
with regard to the right spirit in which her girls 
should try for these honours. The few and well- 
chosen words of the head-mistress generally roused 
those girls wha loved her best to a fever of enthu- 
siasm, and even Hester, who was comparatively a * 
new-comer, felt a great wish, as she listened to that 
clear and vibrating voice and watched the many 
expressions which passed over the noble face, that 
she might find something beyond the mere earthly 
honour and glory of success in this coming trial. 
Having finished her little speech, Mrs. Willis made 
several remarks with regard to the choice of sub-, 
jects. She spoke of the English composition prize 
last, and here she heightened the interest and ex- 
citement which always hung around this special 
prize. Contrary to her usual rule, she would this 
year give no subject for an English theme. Each 
girl might choose what pleased her best. 

On hearing these words Annie Forest, who had 
been sitting by her desk looking rather dull and 
dejected, suddenly sprang to her feet, her face aglow, 
her eyes sparkling, and began whispering vigorously 
to Miss Good. 

Miss Good nodded, and, going up to Mrs. Willis, 
said aloud that Annie had changed her mind, and 
that from not wishing to try for any of the prizes, she 
now intended to compete for the English composition. 

Mrs. Willis looked a little surprised, but without 
any comment she immediately entered Annie’s name 
in the list of competitors, and Annie sat down again, 
not even glancing at her astonished schoolfellows, 
who could not conceal their amazement, for she had 


*^Y0U HAVE NOT SPOHEN** I 3 I 

never hitherto shown the slightest desire to excel in 
this department. 

On the evening of this Friday the girls of the 
three first classes assembled for the first time in the 
South Parlour. Hitherto these meetings had been 
carried on in a systematic and business-like fashion. 
It was impossible for all the girls who belonged to 
these three large classes to assemble on each occasion. 
Careful selections, therefore, were, as a rule, made 
from their numbers. These girls formed a committee 
to superintend and carry on the real preparations for 
the coming treat, and the others only met when 
specially summoned by the committee to appear. 

As usual now the three classes found themselves 
in the South Parlour — as usual they chattered volubly, 
and started schemes, to reject them again with peals 
of laughter. Many ideas were put forward, to be 
cast aside as utterly worthless. No one seemed to 
have apy very brilliant thought, and as the first step 
on these occasions was to select what the entertain- 
ment should be, proceedings seemed to come to a 
standstill. 

The fact was the most daring originator, the one 
whose ideas were always flavoured with a spice of 
novelty, was absolutely silent. 

Cecil Temple, who had taken a seat near Annie, 
suddenly bent forward and spoke to her aloud. 

“We have all said what we would like, and we 
none of us appear to have thought of anything at all 
worth having,” she said ; “ but you have not spoken 
at all, Annie. Give us an idea, dear — ^you know you 
originated the fancy ball last year.” 

Thus publicly appealed to, Annie raised her full 
brown eyes, glanced at her companions, not one of 
I 2 





A World of Girls. 


132 


whom, with the exception of Cecil, returned her gaze 
fully ; then, rising to her feet, she spoke in a slightly 
contemptuous tone. 

These preparations seem to me to be much ado 
about nothing ; they take up a lot of our time, and 
the results aren’t worth the trouble — I have nothing 
particular to say. Oh, well, yes, if you like — let’s 
have blind man’s buff and a magic lantern ; ” and 
then, dropping a mock curtsey to her companions, she 
dashed out of the South Parlour. 

“ Insufferable girl ! ” said Dora Russell ; I wonder 
you try to draw her out, Cecil. You know perfectly 
that we none of us care to have anything to do with 


her.” 


“ I know perfectly that you are all doing your 
best to make her life miserable,” said Cecil, suddenly 
and boldly. “No one in this school has obeyed 
Mrs. Willis’s command to treat Annie as innocent — 
you are practically sending her to Coventry, and I 
think it is unjust and unfair. You don’t know, girls, 
that you are ruining poor Annie’s happiness.” 

“ Oh, dear ! she doesn’t seem at all dull,” said 
Miss West, a second class girl, “ I do think she’s a 
hardened little wretch.” 

“Little you know about her,” said Cecil, the 
colour fading out of her pale face. Then, after a 
pau e, she added, “ The injustice of the whole thing 
is that in this treatment of Annie you break the 
spirit of Mrs. Willis’s command — you, none of you, 
certainly tell her that she is guilty, but you treat her 
as such.” 

Here Hester Thornton said a daring thing. 

“ I don’t believe Mrs. Willis in her heart of hearts 
considers Annie guiltless.’* 




Cecil Gives in. 133 

These words of Hester s were laughed at by most 
of the girls, but Dora Russell gave her an approving 
nod, and Cecil, looking paler than ever, dropped sud- 
denly into her seat, and no longer tried to defend 
her absent friend. 

“At any rate,” said Miss Conway, who as the 
head girl of the whole school was always listened to 
with great respect, “ it is unfortunate for the success 
of our entertainment that there should be all this 
discussion and bad feeling with regard to Miss 
Forest. For my own part, I cannot make out why 
the poor little creature should be hunted down, or 
what affair it is of ours whether she is innocent or not. 
If Mr. Everard and Mrs. Willis says she is innocent, 
is not that enough ? The fact of her guilt or inno- 
cence can’t hurt us one way or another. It is a great 
pity, however, for our own sakes, that we should be 
out with her now, for, whatever her faults, she is the 
only one of us who is ever gifted with an original 
thought. But, as we can’t have her, let us set to work 
without her — we really can’t waste the whole evening 
over this sort of talk.” 

Discussions as to the coming pleasure were now 
again resumed with vigour, and after a great deal of 
animated arguing it was resolved that two short plays 
should be acted ; that a committee should be 
immediately formed, who should select the plays, 
and apportion their various parts to the different 
actors. 

The committee selected included Miss Russell, 
Miss Conway, Hester Thornton, Cecil Temple, and 
two other girls of the second class. The conference 
then broke up, but there was a certain sense of flat- 
ness over everything, and Cecil was not the only girl 


134 


A World of Girls, 


who sighed for the merry meetings of last year — when 
Annie had been the life and soul of all the pro- 
ceedings, and when one brilliant idea after another 
with regard to the costumes for the fancy ball had 
dropped from her merry tongue. 


CHAPTER XXL 

STEALING HEARTS 

When Annie ran out of the South Parlour she 
found herself suddenly face to face with Mrs. Willis. 

“ Well, my dear child,” said the head mistress in 
her kindest voice, “ where are you running to ^ But I 
suppose I must not ask ; you are, of course, one of 
the busy and secret conclave in the South Parlour } ” 

“ No. I have left them,” said Annie, bending her 
head, and after her usual habit when agitated, shaking 
her hair about her face. 

“Left them.?” repeated Mrs. Willis, “you mean, 
dear, that they have sent you for some message.” 

“No. I am not one of them. May I go into the 
garden, Mrs. Willis ? ” 

“ Certainly, my dear.” 

Annie did not even glance at her governess. She 
pushed aside the baize door, and found herself in the 
great stone hall which led to the playroom and school- 
room. Her garden hat hung on a peg in the hall, and 
she tossed it off its place, and holding it in her hand ran 
towards the side door which opened directly into the 
garden. She had a wild wish to get to the shelter of the 
forsaken hammock and there cry out her whole heart. 
The moment she got into the open air, however, she 


The Little Children, 


135 


was met by a whole troop of the little children, who 
were coming in after their usual short exercise before 
going to bed. Miss Danesbu);y was with them, and 
when Annie ran out by the open door, she entered 
holding two little ones by the hands. Last in this 
group toddled Hester^s little sister Nan. The moment 
she saw Annie her little face broke into smiles ; she 
held out two hands eagerly, and fled to the young 
girl’s side. 

“ Where dat pitty toy .? ” she said, raising her 
round face to Annie’s ; “ some one did buy dat toy, 
and it^s vedy pitty, and me wants it — where’s dat 
toy ?” 

Annie stooped down, and spoke suddenly and 
impulsively to the little child. 

“ You shall have the toy for your very own, Nan, 
if you will do something for me } ” 

Nan’s baby eyes looked straight into Annie’s. 

“ Me will,” she said emphatically ; “ me want dat 
toy.” 

“ Put your arms round me, little darling, and give 
me a great tight hug.” 

This request was great fun to Nan, who squeezed 
her little arms round Annie’s neck, and pressed her 
dimpled cheek to her lips. 

“ Dere,” she said triumphantly, “will dat do?” 

“Yes, you little treasure, and you’ll try to love 
me, won’t you ? ” 

“ Me do,” said Nan, in a solemn voice ; but then 
Miss Danesbury called her, and she ran into the house. 

As Nan trotted into the house she put up her 
dimpled hand to wipe something from her round 
cheek — it was a tear which Annie Forest had left 
there. 


A World of Girls, 


Annie herself, when all the little ones had dis- 
appeared, walked slowly and sadly down towards 
the shady walk. The sun had just set, and though it 
was now nearly May, and the evenings long, the wind 
was sufficiently cold to cause Annie to shiver in her 
thin house frock. At all times utterly fearless 
with regard to her health, she gave it no thought 
now, but entering the walk where she knew she should 
not be disturbed, she looked up at the hammock, and 
wondered whether she should climb into it. She 
decided, however, not to do so — the great and terrible 
weight of tears which had pressed close to her heart 
were relieved by Nan’s embrace ; she no longer cared 
to cry until she could cry no longer — the worst of her 
pain had been soothed by the sweet baby graciousness 
of the little one. 

Then there darted into poor Annie’s sore heart 
and perplexed brain that dangerous thought and 
temptation which was to work so much future pain 
and trouble. She already loved little Nan, and Nan, 
as most children did, had taken a fancy to her. Annie 
stood still, and clasped her hands as the dark idea 
came to her to steal the heart of little Nan from 
Hester, and so revenge herself on her. By doing this 
she would touch Hester in her most vulnerable point — 
she would take from her what she valued most. The 
temptation came swiftly, and Annie listened to it, and 
thought how easy it would be to carry it into effect. 
She knew well that no little child could resist her 
when she chose to exercise her charms — it would be 
easy, easy work to make that part of Nan which was 
most precious all her own. Annie became fascinated 
by the idea ; how completely then she would have 
revenged all her wrongs on Hester ! Some day Hester 


Her Turn had Come,' 


137 


would bitterly repent of her unjust prejudice towards 
her ; some day Hester would come to her, and beg of 
her in agony to give her back her darling’s love ; ah ! 
when that day came it would be her turn to triumph. 

She felt more than satisfied as the temptation 
grew upon her ; she shut out persistently from her 
view all the other side of the picture ; she would not 
let herself think that the work she was about to 
undertake was cruel and mean. Hester had been 
more than unjust, and she was going to punish her. 

Annie paced faster and faster up and down the 
shady walk, and whenever her resolution wavered, the 
memory of Hester’s face as she had seen it the same 
night in the South Parlour came visibly back and 
strengthened it. Yes, her turn had come at last. 
Hester had contrived since her entrance into the 
school to make Annie’s life thoroughly miserable. 
Well, never mind, it was Annie’s turn now to make 
her wretched. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

IN BURN CASTLE WOOD. 

In concentrating her thoughts of revenge on H ester 
Annie ceased to trouble her head about Dora Russell. 
She considered Hester a crueller enemy than Dora. 
Hester belonged to her own set, worked in her own 
class, and would naturally, had things not turned 
out so unjustly, so unfairly, have been her friend, and 
not her enemy. Dora had nothing to say to Annie, 
and before Hester’s advent into the school had 
scarcely noticed her existence. Annie therefore 


138 


A World of Girls, 


concentrated all her powers on punishing Hester. 
This gave her an aim and an occupation, and 
at first she felt that her revenge might give her real 
pleasure. 

Susan Drummond now shared Annie’s bedroom, 
and Annie was rather startled one evening to hear 
this phlegmatic young person burst out into a strong 
tirade against Hester and Dora. Dora had man- 
aged, for some inexplicable reason, to offend Susan, 
and Susan now looked to Annie for sympathy, 
and boldly suggested that they should get up 
what she was pleased to call “a lark” between 
them for the punishment of this very dignified young 
lady. 

Annie had never liked Susan, and she now stared 
at her, and said in her quick way — 

“You won’t catch me helping you in any of 
your larks. I’ve had trouble enough on that score as 
it is.” 

Susan gazed at her stupidly, and a dull red 
spread over her face. 

“ But I thought you hated Dora and Hester,” she 
said — “ I’m sure they hate you.” 

Annie was silent. 

“You do hate them, don’t you?” persisted Miss 
Drummond. 

“ It’s nothing to you what I feel towards them, 
Susy,” said Annie. “ Please don’t disturb me with 
any more of your chatter ; I am very sleepy, and you 
are keeping me awake.” 

Thus silenced, Susan had to content herself by 
turning on her back, and going into the land of 
dreams ; but she was evidently a good deal surprised 
and disappointed, and began to entertain a certain 


Work and Play. 


139 

respect, and even fear, of Annie which had been 
hitherto unknown to her. 

Meanwhile Hester was very busy, very happy, 
and more satisfied — brighter and better employed 
than she had ever been in her life before. Nan’s 
love satisfied the affectionate side of her nature, and 
all her intellect was strained to the utmost to win 
honours in the coming struggle. 

She had stuck firmly to her resolve to work for 
the English composition prize, and she firmly made 
up her own mind to leave no stone unturned to win it. 
What affection she possessed for Miss Russell was 
not at all of a character to prevent her from thoroughly 
enjoying taking the prize out of her hands. Her love 
for Dora had been fed by vanity, and was not at all 
of a deep or noble character. She was some time 
carefully choosing the subject of her theme, and 
at last she resolved to write a brief historical de- 
scription of the last days of Marie Antoinette. To 
write properly on this subject she had to read up 
a great deal, and had to find references in books 
which were not usually allowed as schoolroom pro- 
perty. Mfs. Willis, however, always allowed the girls 
who were working for the English composition prize 
to have access to her rather extensive library, and 
here Hester was often to be found during play-hours. 
Two evenings in the week were also taken up in 
preparation for the coming plays, and as Hester 
was to take rather an important part in one, and 
a small character in another, she was obliged to devote 
herself to getting up her parts during the weekly 
half-holidays. Thus every moment was busy, and, 
except at night, she had little time to devote herself 
to Nan. 


140 


A World of Girls. 


Nan slept in a pretty crib in Hester’s room, and 
each evening the young girl knelt down by her sister’s 
side, and gazed at her with love which was almost 
motherly swelling in her breast. 

All that was best of Hester was drawn out at these 
moments ; something greater than ambition — some- 
thing far and away above school triumphs and school 
jealousies spoke then in her heart of hearts. These 
moments found her capable of being both sympathising 
and forgiving ; these moments followed out in her 
daily life might have made Hester almost great. 
Now was the time, with her eyes full of tears and her 
lips trembling with emotion, for Annie Forest to have 
caught a glimpse of the divine in Hester ; the hard- 
ness, the pride, the haughty spirit were all laid aside, 
and hers was the true child-heart as she knelt by the 
sleeping baby. Hester prayed earnestly at these 
moments, and, in truth, Nan did bett.er for her than 
any sermon ; better for her than even Mrs. Willis’s 
best influences. Nan was as the voice of God to her 
sister. 

Hester, in her very busy life, had no time to notice, 
however, a very slight and almost imperceptible change 
in bright little Nan. In the mornings she was in too 
great a hurry to pay much heed to the little one’s 
chatter ; in the afternoons she had scarcely an instant 
to devote to her, and when she saw her playing happily 
with the other children she was quite content, and 
always supposed that when a spare half-hcur did come 
in her busy life Nan would rush to her with the old 
ecstasy, and give her the old devotion. 

One day, towards the end of a very fine May, the 
girls were all to go for a picnic to some woods about 
four miles away. Thev had looked forward for several 


A Real HolidaV, 


t4t 

days to this relaxation, and were in the highest state 
of delight and the wildest spirits. After an early 
dinner they were to drive in several large waggonettes 
to the place of rendezvous^ where they were to be 
regaled with gipsy-tea, and were to have a few hours 
in the lovely woods of Burn Castle, one of the show 
places of the neighbourhood. Mrs. Willis had invited 
the Misses Bruce to accompany them, and they were 
all to leave the house punctually at two o^clock. The 
weather was wonderfully fine and warm, and it 
was decided that all the children, even Nan, should 
go. 

Perhaps none of the girls looked forward to this 
day’s pleasure with greater joy than did Hester ; she 
determined to make it a real holiday, and a real time 
of relaxation. She would forget her English theme ; 
she would cease to worry herself about Marie An- 
toinette ; she would cease to repeat her part in the 
coming play ; and she would devote herself exclusively 
and determinate^ to Nan’s pleasure. She pictured 
the little one’s raptures ; she heard her gay shouts of 
joy, her ceaseless little rippling chatter, her baby glee, 
and, above all things, her intense happiness at being 
with her own Hetty for the greater part of a whole 
day. Hester would ride her on her shoulder, would 
race with her ; all her usual companions would be as 
nothing to her on this occasion, she would give herself 
up solely to Nan. 

As she was dressing that morning she said a word 
or two to the child about the coming treat. 

“ We’ll light a fire in the wood. Nan, and hang a 
kettle over it, and make tea — such good tea ; wonT it 
be nice } ” 

Nan clapped her hands. “And may I take out 


142 


A World of Girls, 


my little ummabella (umbrella), case it might wain ? ** 
she asked, anxiously. 

Hester flew to her and kissed her. 

“You funny darling!” she said. “Oh, we shall 
have such a day! You’ll be with your own Hetty 
all day long — your own Hetty ; won’t you be 
glad?” 

“ Me am/’ said Nan ; “ own Hetty, and own Annie ; 
me am glad.” 

Hester scarcely heard the last words, for the 
prayer-gong sounded, and she had to fly down-stairs. 

At dinner time the girls were discussing who 
would go with each, and all were very merry and full 
of fun. 

“ Miss Danesbury will take the little children,” 
said Miss Good. “ Mrs. Willis says that all the little 
ones are to be in Miss Danesbury’s charge.” 

“Oh, please,” said Hester, suddenly, “may Nan 
come with me. Miss Good ? She’ll be so disap- 
pointed if she doesn’t, and I’ll take such care of her.” 

Miss Good nodded a careless acquiescence, and 
Hester proceeded with her dinner, feeling thoroughly 
satisfied. 

Immediately after dinner the girls flew to their 
rooms to prepare for their expedition. Hastily open- 
ing a drawer, Hester pulled out a white frock, white 
piqu6 pelisse, and washing hat for Nan — she meant 
her darling to look as charming as possible. 

“ Oh, dear. Miss Danesbury should have brought 
her here by now,” she said to herself impatiently, and 
then, hearing the crunching of carriage wheels on the 
drive, she flew to the bell and rang it. 

In a few moments one of the maids appeared. 

“ Do you know where Miss Nan is, Alice ? She is 


Nan^s White and Pretty Things. 143 

to go to Burn Castle with me, and I want to dress 
her, for it is nearly time to go.” 

Alice looked a little surprised. 

"If you please, Miss,” she said, “ I think Miss Nan 
has just gone.” 

“What do you mean, Alice? Miss Good said 
especially she was to go with me.” 

“ I know nothing about that. Miss ; I only know 
that I saw Miss Forest carrying her down-stairs in 
her arms about three minutes ago, and they went off 
in the waggonette with all the other little children and 
Miss Danesbury.” 

Hester stood perfectly still, her colour changed 
from red to white ; for full half a minute she was 
silent. Then, hearing voices from below calling to her, 
she said in a cold, quiet tone — 

“ That will do, Alice ; thank you for letting me 
know.” 

She turned to her drawer and put back Nan’s 
white and pretty things, and also replaced a new and 
very becoming shady hat which she had meant to 
wear herself. In her old winter hat, and looking 
almost untidy for her, she walked slowly down-stairs 
and took her place in the waggonette which was drawn 
up at the door. 

Cecil Temple and one or two other girls whom 
Hester liked very much were in the same waggonette, 
but she scarcely cared to talk to them, and only 
joined in their laughter by a, strong effort. She was 
deeply wounded, but her keenest present desire was 
to hide any feelings of jealousy she had towards 
Annie from the quick eyes of her schoolfellows. 

“ Why,” suddenly exclaimed Julia Morris, a par- 
ticularly unobservant girl, * I thought you were going 


j44 


A World of Girls. 


to bring that dear baby sister with you, Hester. 
Oh, I do hope there is nothing the matter with her.” 

“Nan has gone on in the first waggonette with 
the little children,” said Hester as cheerfully as she 
could speak, but she coloured slightly, and saw that 
Cecil was regarding her attentively. 

Susan Drummond exclaimed suddenly — 

“ I saw Annie Forest rushing down the stairs 
with little Nan, and Nan had her arms round her 
neck, and was laughing merrily. You need not be 
anxious about Nan, Hester; she was quite content to 
go with Annie.” 

“ I did not say I was anxious,” replied Hester in 
a cold voice. “ How very beautiful that avenue of 
beech trees is, Cecil ! ” 

“ But Annie heard Miss Good say that you were 
to take Nan,” persisted Julia Morris. “ She could not 
but have noticed it, for you did flush up so, Hester, 
and looked so eager. I never saw any one more in 
earnest about a trifle in my life ; it was impossible 
for Annie not to have heard.” 

“ The great thing is that Nan is happy,” said 
Hester in a fretted voice. “Do let us change the 
subject, girls. 

Cecil instantly began talking about the coming 
plays, and soon the conversation became of an 
absorbing character, and Hester’s voice was heard 
oftener than the others, and she laughed more fre- 
quently than her companions. 

For all this forced merriment, however, Cecil did 
not fail to observe that when Hester got to the place 
of meeting at Burn Castle she looked around her 
with a quick and eager glance. Then the colour faded 
from her face, and her eyes grew dim. 


A Pretty Sight, 


145 


That look of pain on Hester’s face was quite 
enough for kind-hearted Cecil. She had thrown her- 
self on the grass with an exclamation of delight, but 
in an instant she was on her feet. 

“ Now, of course, the first thing is to find little 
Nan,” she said ; “ she’ll be missing you dreadfully, 
Hetty.” 

Cecil held out her hand to Hester to run with 
her through the wood, but, to her surprise, Hester 
drew back. 

“ I’m tired,” she said ; “ I daresay we shall find 
Nan presently. She is sure to be safe, as she is under 
Miss Danesbury’s care.” 

Cecil made no remark, but set off by herself to 
find the little children. Presently, standing on a 
little knoll, and putting her two hands round her 
lips, so as to form a speaking trumpet, she shouted to 
Hester. Hester came slowly and apparently un- 
willingly towards her, but when she got to the foot 
of the knoll, Cecil flew down, and, taking her by the 
hand, ran with her .0 the top. 

“ Oh, do come quick ! ” she exclaimed ; ‘‘ it is 
such a pretty sight.” 

Down in the valley about fifty yards away were 
the ten or twelve little children who formed the 
infant portion of the school. Miss Danesbury was 
sitting at some distance off quietly reading, and the 
children, decked with flowers, and carrying tall 
grasses and reeds in their hands, were flying round 
and round in a merry circle, while in their midst, and 
the centre of attraction, stood Annie, whose hat was 
tossed aside, and whose bright, curling hair was 
literally crowned witli wild flowers. On Annie’s 
shoulder stood little Nan, carefully and beautifully 


146 


A World of Girls. 


poised, and round Nan’s wavy curls was a starry 
wreath of wood-anemones. Nan was shouting glee- 
fully and clapping her hands, while Annie balanced 
her slightest movement with the greatest agility, and 
kept her little feet steady on her shoulders with 
scarcely an effort. As the children ran round and 
round Annie she waltzed gracefully backwards and 
forwards to meet them, and they all sang snatches of 
nursery rhymes. When Cecil and Hester appeared 
they had reached in their varied collection — 

“ Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, 

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.” 

Here Nan exclaimed, in her clear, high-pitched 
voice — 

“ Me no fall, Annie,” and the small children on 
the ground clapped their hands and blew kisses to 
her. 

“ Isn’t it pretty } Isn’t Annie sweet with child- 
ren } ” said Cecil, looking round to Hester with all the 
admiration she felt for her friend shining in her face. 
The expression, however, which Hester wore at that 
moment really startled Cecil ; she was absolutely 
colourless, and presently she called aloud in a harsh, 
strained voice — 

“ Be careful of her ! How wicked of you to put 
her like that on your shoulder ! She will fall — yes, I 
know she will fall ; oh, do be careful ! ” 

Hester’s voice startled the children, who ceased 
singing and dancing; Annie made a hasty step 
forward, and one little voice alone kept singing out 
the words — 

“ Humpty-Dumpty got a great fall !”— 
when there was a crash and a cry, and Nan, in some 


“ You ARE UnjustP 147 

inexplicable way, had fallen backwards from Annie’s 
shoulders. 

In one instant Hester was in the midst of the group. 

“ Don’t touch her,” she said, as Annie flew to pick 
up the child, who, falling with some force on her 
head, had been stunned ; “ don’t touch her — don’t 
dare ! It was your doing ; you did it on purpose — you 
wishefl to do it ! ” 

“ You are unjust,” said Annie, in a low tone. 
“ Nan was perfectly safe until you startled her. Like 
all the rest you are unjust. Nan would have come to 
no harm if you had not spoken.” 

Hester did not vouchsafe another word. She sat 
on the ground with the unconscious and pretty little 
flower-crowned figure laid across her lap ; she was 
terrified, and thought in her inexperience that Nan 
must be dead. 

At the first mention of the accident Cecil had 
flown to fetch some water, and when she and Miss 
Danesbury applied it to little Nan’s temples, she 
presently sighed, and opened her brown eyes wide. 

“ I hope — I trust she is not much hurt,” said Miss 
Danesbury ; “ but I think it safest to take her home 
at once. Cecil, dear, can you do anything about 
fetching a waggonette round to the stile at the 
entrance of the wood ? Now, the puzzle is, who is to 
take care of the rest of the little children ? If only they 
were under Miss Good’s care, I should breathe more 
easily.” 

“ I am going home with Nan/’ said Hester, in a 
hard voice. 

“ Of course, my love ; no one would think of 
parting you from your little sister,” said the governess 
soothingly. 


A World of Girls. 


148 

“If you please, Miss Danesbury,” said Annie, 
whose face was quite as pale as Hester^s, and her eyes 
heavy as though she longed to cry, “ will you trust me 
with the little ones? If you do, I will promise to 
take them straight to Miss Good, and to be. most 
careful of them.” 

Miss Danesbury^s gentle and kind face looked 
relieved. 

“ Thank you, Annie — of course I trust you, dear. 
Take the children at once to the meeting-place under 
the great oak, and wait there until Miss Good 
appears.” 

Annie suddenly sprang forward, and threw her 
arms round Miss Danesbury’s neck. 

“ Miss Danesbury, you comfort me,” she said, in a 
kind of stifled voice, and then she ran off with the 
children. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“HUMPTY-DUMPTY HAD A GREAT FALL.” 

All the stupor and languor which immediately 
followed Nan’s fall passed off during her drive home ; 
she chatted and laughed, her cheeks were flushed, 
her eyes bright. Hester turned with a relieved face 
to Miss Danesbury. 

“My little darling is all right, is she not?” she 
said. “Oh, I was so terrified — oh, how thankful I 
am no harm has been done ! ” 

Miss Danesbury did not return Hester’s full gaze ; 
she attempted to take little Nan on her knee, but Nan 
clung to Hetty. Then she said — 

“You must be careful to keep the sun off her 


A Heavy Sleep. 


149 


dear — hold your parasol well down — ^just so. That is 
better. When we get home, I will put her to bed at 
once. Please God, there is nothing wrong ; but one 
cannot be too careful.” 

Something in Miss Danesbury^s manner affected 
Hester strangely; she clasped Nan’s slight baby 
form closer and closer to her heart, and no longer 
joined in the little one’s mirth. As the drive drew to 
a close. Nan again ceased talking, and fell into a 
heavy sleep. 

Miss Danesbury’s face grew graver and graver, 
and, when the waggonette drew up at Lavender 
House, she insisted on lifting the sleeping child out of 
Hester’s arms, and carrying her up to her little crib. 
When Nan’s little head was laid on the cool pillow, 
she again opened her eyes, and instantly asked for a 
drink. Miss Danesbury gave her some milk and 
water, but the moment she drank it she was sick. 

“Just as I feared,” said the governess; “there is 
some little mischief — not much, I hope — but we must 
instantly send for the doctor.” 

As Miss Danesbury walked across the room to 
ring the bell, Hester followed her. 

“ She’s not in danger .? ” she whispered in a hoarse 
voice ; “ if she is, Annie is guilty of murder.” 

“ Don’t, my dear,” said the governess ; “ you must 
keep quiet for Nan’s sake. Please God, she will soon 
be better. All I really apprehend is a little excite- 
ment and feverishness, which will pass off in a few 
days with care. Hester, my dear, I suddenly remem- 
ber that the house is nearly empty, for all the servants 
are also enjoying a holiday. I think I must send you 
for Dr. Mayflower. The waggonette is still at the 
door, Drive at once fo town, my dear, and ask the 


150 


A World of Girls. 


coachman to take you to No. lo, The Parade. If 
you are very quick, you will catch Dr. Mayflower 
before he goes out on his afternoon rounds.” 

Hester glanced for half an instant at Nan, but 
her eyes were again closed. 

“ I will take the best care of her,” said the gover- 
ness in a kind voice ; “ don’t lose an instant, dear.” 

Hester snatched up her hat and flew down- 
stairs. In a moment ^he was in the waggonette, and 
the driver was speedily urging his horses in the 
direction of the small town of Sefton, two miles and 
a half away. Hester was terrified now — so terrified, 
in such an agony, that she even forgot Annie ; her 
hatred towards Annie became of secondary im- 
portance to her. All her ideas, all her thoughts, 
were swallowed up in the one great hope — Should she 
be in time to reach Dr. Mayflower’s house before he 
set off on his afternoon rounds .? As the waggonette 
approached Sefton she buried her face in her hands 
and uttered a sharp inward cry of agony. 

“ Please God, let me find the doctor ! ” It was a 
real prayer from her heart of hearts. The waggonette 
drew up at the doctor's residence, to discover him 
stepping into his brougham. Hester was a shy 
child, and had never seen him before; but she in- 
stantly raised her voice, and almost shouted to him — 

“ You are to come with me ; please you are to come 
at once. Little Nan is ill — she is hurt. Please, you 
are to come at once.” 

“ Eh ! young lady ? ” said the round-faced doctor. 

“ Oh ! I see ; you are one of the little girls from. 
Lavender House. Is anything wrong there 
dear?” 

Hester managed to relate what had occurred ; 


Not Quick Enough. 151 

whereupon the doctor instantly opened the door of 
the waggonette. 

“Jump out, young lady,” he said; “I will drive 
you back in my brougham. Masters,” addressing his 
coachman, “ to Lavender House.” 

Hester sat back in the soft-cushioned carriage, 
which bowled smoothly along the road. It seemed 
to her impatience that the pace at which they went 
was not half quick enough — she longed to put her 
head out of the window to shout to the coachman to 
go faster. She felt intensely provoked with the 
doctor, who sat placidly by her side reading a news- 
paper. 

Presently she saw that his eyes were fixed on 
her. He spoke in his quietest tones. 

“We always take precisely twenty minutes to 
drive from the Parade to Lavender House — twenty 
minutes^ neither more nor less. We shall be there 
now in exactly ten minutes.” 

Hester tried to smile, but failed ; her agony of 
apprehension grew and grew. She breathed more 
freely when they turned into the avenue. When 
they stopped at the wide stone porch, and the doctor 
got out, she uttered a sigh of relief. She took Dr. 
Mayflower herself up to Nan^s room. Miss Danes- 
bury opened the door, the doctor went inside, and 
Hester crouched down on the landing and waited. 
It seemed to her that the good physician would 
never come out. When he did she raised a perfectly 
blanched face to his, she opened her lips, tried to 
speak, but no words would come. Her agitation was 
so intense that the kind-hearted doctor took instant 
pity on her. 

“ Come into this room, my child,” he said. “ My 


A World of Girls. 


tS^ 

dear, you will be ill yourself if you give way like 
this. Pooh ! pooh ! this agitation is extreme — is 
uncalled for. You have got a shock. I shall 
prescribe a glass of sherry at once. Come down- 
stairs with me, and I will see that you get one.” 

“ But how is she, sir — how is she ? ” poor Hester 
managed to articulate. 

“ Oh ! the little one — sweet, pretty, little darling. 
I did not know she was your sister — a dear little 
child. She got an ugly fall, though — came on a 
nasty place.” 

“ But, please, sir, how is she ? She — she — she is 
not in danger ? ” 

“ Danger ? by no means, unless you put her into 
it. She must be kept very quiet, and, above all 
things, not excited. I will come to see her again to- 
morrow morning. With proper care she ought to be 
quite herself in a few days. Ah ! now you’ve got a 
little colour in your cheek, come down with me and 
have that glass of sherry, and you will feel all right” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

ANNIE TO THE RESCUE. 

The picnic-party arrived home late. The accident 
to little Nan had not. shortened the day’s pleasure, 
although Mrs. Willis, the moment she heard of it, 
had come back ; for she entered the hall just as the 
doctor was stepping into his carriage. He gave 
her his opinion, and said that he trusted no further 
mischief, beyond a little temporary excitement, had 
been caused. He again, however, spoke of the 


'*You ARE Sorry for Me^ 153 

great necessity of keeping Nan quiet, and said 
that her schoolfellows must not come to her, and 
that she must not be excited in any way. Mrs. 
Willis came into the great hall where Hester was 
standing. Instantly she went up to the young girl, 
and put her arm around and drew her to her side. 

“ Darling,” she said, “ this is a grievous anxiety 
for you ; no words can express my sorrow and my 
sympathy ; but the doctor is quite hopeful, Hester, 
and, please God, we shall soon have the little one 
as well as ever.” 

“You are really sorry for me.?” said Hester, 
raising her eyes to the head-mistress’s face. 

“ Of course, dear ; need you ask ? ” 

“Then you will have that wicked Annie Forest 
punished — well punished — well punished.” 

“ Sometimes, Hester,” said Mrs. Willis very 
gravely, “ God takes the punishment of our wrong- 
doings into His own hands. Annie came home 
with me. Had you seen her face as we drove to- 
gether you would not have asked me to punish her.” 

“ Unjust, always unjust,” muttered Hester, but 
in so low a voice that Mrs. Willis did not hear 
the words. “ Please may I go to little Nan .? ” 
she said. 

“ Certainly, Hester — some tea shall be sent up to 
you presently.” 

Miss Danesbury arranged to spend that night 
in Nan’s room. A sofa bed was brought in for 
her to lie on, for Mrs. Willis had yielded to 
Hester’s almost feverish entreaties that she might 
not be banished from her little sister. Not a 
sound reached the room where Nan was lying — 
even the girls took off their shoes as they passed 


154 


A World of Girls. 


the door — not a whisper came to disturb the sick 
child. Little Nan slept most of the evening, only 
sometimes opening her eyes and looking up drow- 
sily when Miss Danesbury changed the cold appli- 
cation to her head. At nine o’clock there came a 
low tap at the room door. Hester went to open 
it ; one of her schoolfellows stood without. 

The prayer-gong is not to be sounded to- 
night. Will you come to the chapel now? Mrs. 
Willis sent me to ask.” 

Hester shook her head. 

“ I cannot,” she whispered ; “ tell her I cannot 
come.” 

“ Oh, I am so sorry ! ” replied the girl ; “ is Nan 
very bad ? ” 

“ I don’t know ; I hope not. Good-night.” 

Hester closed the room-door, took off her dress, 
and began very softly to prepare to get into bed. 
She put on her dressing-gown, and knelt down 
as usual to her private prayers. When she got 
on her knees, however, she found it impossible to 
pray ; her brain felt in a whirl, her feelings were un- 
prayerlike ; and with the temporary relief of believing 
Nan in no immediate danger came such a flood 
of hatred towards Annie as almost frightened her. 
She tried to ask God to make Nan better — quite 
well ; but even this petition seemed to go no way 
— to reach no one — to fall flat on the empty air. 
She rose from her knees, and got quietly into 
bed. 

Nan lay in that half-drowsy and languid state 
until midnight. Hester, with all her very slight 
experience of illness, thought that as long as Nan 
was quiet she must be getting better; but Miss 


Hester, rut Annie'^ 1^5 

Danesbury was by no means so sure, and, not- 
withstanding the doctor’s verdict, she felt anxious 
about the child. Hester had said that she could 
not sleep ; but at Miss Danesbury’s special request 
she got into bed, and before she knew anything 
about it was in a sound slumber. At midnight, 
when all the house was quiet, and Miss Danes- 
bury kept a lonely watch by the sick child’s pillow, 
there came a marked change for the worse in 
the little one. She opened her feverish eyes wide 
and began to call out piteously ; but her cry now 
was, not for Hester, but for Annie. 

“ Me want my Annie,” she said over and over, 
“ me do, me do. No, no ; go ’way, naughty Day- 
bury, me want my Annie ; me do want her.’^ 

Miss Danesbury felt puzzled and distressed. 
Hester, however, was awakened by the piteous cry, 
and sat up in bed. 

“ What is it, Miss Danesbury ? ” she asked. 

“ She is very much excited, Hester ; she is calling 
for Annie Forest.” 

“ Oh, that is quite impossible,” said Hester, a 
shudder passing through her. “ Annie can’t come 
here. The doctor specially said that none of the 
girls were to come near Nan.” 

“ Me want Annie ; me want my own Annie,” 
wailed the sick child. 

“ Give me my dressing-gown, please. Miss Danes- 
bury, and I will go to her,” said Hester. 

She sprang out of bed, and approached the little 
crib. The brightness of Nan’s feverish eyes was dis- 
tinctly seen. She looked up at Hester, who bent 
over her ; then she uttered a sharp cry and covered 
her little face. 


156 


A World of Girls. 


“ Go ’way, go ’way, naughty Hetty — Nan want 
Annie ; Annie sing, Annie p’ay with Nan — go Vay, 
go ’way, Hetty.” 

Hester’s heart was too full to allow her to speak ; 
but she knelt by the crib and tried to take one of the 
little hot hands in hers. Nan, however, pushed her 
hands away, and now began to cry loudly. 

“Annie ! — Annie ! — Annie ! me want ^oo ; Nan 
want ’oo — poor tibby Nan want ’oo, Annie !” 

Miss Danesbury touched Hester on her shoulder. 

“My dear,” she said, “the child’s wish must be 
gratified. Annie has an extraordinary power over 
children, and under the circumstances I shall take it 
upon me to disobey the doctor’s directions. The 
child must be quieted at all hazards. Run for Annie, 
dear — you know her room. I had better stay with 
little Nan, for, though she loves you best, you don’t 
soothe her at present — that is often so with a fever 
case.” 

“ One moment,” said Hester. She turned again to 
the little crib. 

“ Hetty is going to fetch Annie for Nan. Will 
Nan give her own Hetty one kiss ? ” 

Instantly the little arms were flung round Hester’s 
neck. 

“ Me like ’oo now, dood Hetty. Go for Annie, 
dood Hetty.” 

Instantly Hester ran out of the room. She flew 
quickly down the long passage, and did not know 
what a strange little figure she made as the moon from 
a large window at one end fell full upon her. So 
eerie, so ghost-like was her appearance as she flew 
noiselessly with her bare feet along the passage that 
some one — Hester did not know whom — gave a 


I Knew SHE Wanted Me,^* i$7 

stifled cry. The cry seemed to come from a good 
way off, and Hester was too preoccupied to notice it 
She darted into the room where Susan Drummond 
and Annie Forest slept. 

“Annie, you are to come to Nan,” she said in a 
sharp high-pitched voice which she scarcely recognised 
as her own. 

“ Coming,” said Annie, and she walked instantly 
to the door with her dress on, and stood in the moon- 
light. 

“You are dressed !” said Hester in astonishment 

“ I could not undress — I lay down as I was. I 
fancied I heard Nan’s voice calling me. I guessed I 
should be sent for.” 

“Well, come now,” said Hester in her hardest 
tones. “You were only sent for because Nan must 
be quieted at any risk. Come, and see if you can 
quiet her. I don’t suppose,” with a bitter laugh/ 
“ that you will succeed.” 

“I think so,” replied Annie, in a very soft and 
gentle tone. 

She walked back by HesteFs side and entered the 
sick room. She walked straight up to the little cot, 
and knelt down by Nan, and said, in that strangely 
melodious voice of hers — 

“ Little darling, Annie has come.” 

“ Me like ’oo,” said Nan, with a satisfied coo in 
her voice, and she turned round on her side, with her 
back to Miss Danesbury and HTester, and her eyes 
fixed on Annie. 

“ Sing ‘ Four-and-twenty,’ Annie ; sing ‘ Four-and- 
twenty,’ ” she said presently. 

“ Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie,” 
sang Annie in a low clear voice, without a moment’s 


I5S 


A World of Girls. 


hesitation. She went through the old nursery rhyme 
once— twice. Then Nan interrupted her fretfully — 
Me don’t want dat ’dain ; sing ‘ Boy Blue/ 
Annie.” 

Annie sang. 

“‘Tree Little Kittens/ Annie,” interrupted the 
little voice presently. 

For more than two hours Annie knelt by the 
child, singing nursery rhyme after nursery rhyme, 
while the bright beautiful eyes were fixed on her face, 
and the little voice said incessantly — 

“ Sing, Annie — sing.” 

“Baby Bun, now,” said Nan, when Annie had 
come almost to the end of her selection. 

“Bye baby bunting, 

Daddy’s gone a-hunting — 

He’s gone to fetch a rabbit-skin. 

To place the baby bunting in.” 

Over and over and over did Annie sing the words. 
Whenever, even for a brief moment she paused. Nan 
said — 

“ Sing, Annie — sing ‘ Baby Bun.’ ” 

And all the time the eyes remained wide open, 
and the little' hands were burning hot ; but, gradually, 
after more than two hours of constant singing, Annie 
began to fancy that the burning skin was cooler, 
Then — could she believe it ? — she saw the lids droop 
over the wide-open eyes. Five minutes later, to the 
tune of ‘ Baby Bunting,’ Nan had fallen into a deep 
and sound sleep. 


159 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A SPOILT BABY. 

In the morning Nan was better, and although for 
days she was in a very precarious state, and had to be 
kept as quiet as possible, yet Miss Danesbury’s great 
dread that fever would set in had passed away. The 
doctor said, however, that Nan had barely escaped 
real injury to her brain, and that it would be many a 
day before she would romp again, and play freely and 
noisily with the other children. Nan had chosen her 
own nurse, and, with the imperiousness of all babies — 
to say nothing of sick babies — she had her way. From 
morning till night Annie remained with her, and 
when the doctor saw how Annie alone could soothe 
and satisfy the child he would not allow it to be 
otherwise. At first Nan would lie with her hand in 
Annie’s, and her little cry of “ Sing, Annie,” going on 
from time to time ; but as she grew better Annie 
would sit with her by the open window, with her head 
pillowed on her breast, and her arm round the little 
slender form, and Nan would srpile and look adoringly 
at Annie, who would often return her gaze with in- 
tense sadness, and an indescribable something in her 
face which caused the little one to stroke her cheek 
tenderly, and say in her sweet baby voice — 

“ Poor Annie ; poor tibby Annie ! ” 

They made a pretty picture as they sat there. 
Annie, with her charming gipsy face, her wild, luxu- 
riant, curly hair, all the sauciness and unrest in her 
soothed by the magic of the little child’s presence ; 


i6o A World of Girls. 

and the little child herself, with her faint wild-rose 
colour, her dark deep eyes, clear as summer pools, and 
her sunshiny golden hair. But pretty as the picture 
was Hester loathed it, for Hester thought during these 
wretched days that her heart would break. 

Not that Nan turned away from Hetty ; she 
petted her and kissed her, and sometimes put an arm 
round Hetty and an arm round Annie, as though, if 
she could, she would draw them together ; but any one 
could see that her heart of hearts was given to Annie, 
and that Hester ranked second in her love. Hester 
would not for worlds express any of her bitter feelings 
before Annie ; nay, as the doctor and Miss Danesbury 
both declared that, however culpable Annie might 
have been in causing the accident, she had saved little 
Nan’s life by her wonderful skill in soot^iing her to 
sleep on the first night of her illness, Hester had felt 
obliged to grumble something which might have been 
taken for “ thanks.” 

Annie, in reply to this grumble, had bestowed 
upon Hester one of her quickest, brightest glances, for 
she fathomed the true state of Hester’s heart towards 
her well enough. 

These were very bad days for poor Hester, and 
but for the avidity with which she threw herself into 
her studies she could scarcely have borne them. 

By slow degrees Nan got better ; she was allowed 
to come downstairs and to sit in Annie’s arms in the 
garden, and then Mrs. Willis interfered, and said that 
Annie must go back to her studies, and only devote 
her usual play hours and half-holidays to Nan’s service. 

This mandate, however, produced woe and tribu- 
lation. The spoilt child screamed and beat her little 
hands, and worked herself up into such a pitch of 


Mrs. Willis is Puzzled. i 6 i 

excitement that that night she found her way in her 
sleep to Annie’s room, and Annie had to quiet her hy 
taking her into her bed. In the morning the doctor 
had to be sent for, and he instantly prescribed a day 
or two more of Annie’s company for the child. 

Mrs. Willis felt dreadfully puzzled. She had 
undertaken the charge of the little one ; her father 
was already far away, so it was impossible now to make 
any change of plans ; the child was ill — had been 
injured by an accident caused by Annie’s carelessness 
and by Hester’s want of self-control. But weak and 
ill as Nan still was, Mrs. Willis felt that an undue 
amount of spoiling was good for no one. She thought 
it highly unjust to Annie to keep her from her school 
employments at this most important period of the 
year. If Annie did not reach a certain degree of 
excellence in her school marks she could not be pro- 
moted in her class. Mrs. Willis did not expect the 
wild and heedless girl to carry off any special prizes ; 
but her abilities were quite up to the average, and she 
always hoped to rouse sufficient ambition in her to 
enable her to acquire a good and sound education. 
Mrs. Willis knew how necessary this was for poor 
Annie’s future, and, after giving the doctor an assur- 
ance that Nan’s whims and pleasures should be attended 
to for the next two or three days, she determined at 
the end of that time to assert her own authority with 
the child, and to insist on Annie working hard at her 
lessons, and returning to her usual schoolroom life. 

On the morning of the third day Mrs. Willis made 
inquiries, heard that Nan had spent an excellent night, 
eaten a hearty breakfast, and was altogether looking 
blooming. When the girls assembled in the school- 
room for their lessons, Annie brought her little charge 
K 


1^2 


A tVo/^LD OF Girls. 


down to the large playroom, where they established 
themselves cosily, and Annie began to instruct little . 
Nan in the mysteries of — 

“ Tic, tac, too, 

The little horse has lost his shoe.” 

Nan was entering into the spirit of the game, was 
imagining herself a littlev horse, and was holding out 
her small foot to be shod, when Mrs. Willis entered 
the room. 

‘‘ Come with me. Nan,” she said ; “ I have got 
something to show you.” 

Nan got up instantly, held out one hand to Mrs. 
Willis and the other to Annie, and said, in her con- 
fident baby tones — 

“ Me turn ; Annie tumming too.” 

Mrs. Willis said nothing, but, holding the little 
hand, and accompanied by Annie, she went out of 
the playroom, across the stone hall, and through the 
baize doors until she reached her own delightful 
private sitting-room. 

There were heaps of pretty things about, and Nan 
gazed round her with the appreciative glance of a 
pleased connoisseur. 

“ Pitty ’oom,” she said approvingly. “Nan likes 
this ’oom. Me’ll stay here, and so will Annie.” 

Here she uttered a sudden cry of rapture — on the 
floor, with its leaves temptingly open, lay a gaily- 
painted picture-book, and curled up in a soft fluffy 
ball by its side was a white Persian kitten asleep. 

Mrs. Willis whispered something to Annie, who 
ran out of the room, and Nan knelt down in a perfect 
rapture of worship by the kitten’s side. 

“ Pitty tibby pussy 1 ” she exclaimed several times, 


and she rubbed it so persistently the wrong way that 
the kitten shivered and stood up, arched its back very 
high, yawned, turned round three times, and lay down 
again. Alas ! “ tibby pussy ” was not allowed to have 
any continuous slumber. Nan dragged the Persian 
by its tail into her lap, and when it resisted this 
indignity, and with two or three light bounds dis- 
appeared out of the room, she stretched out her little 
hands and began to cry for it. 

‘‘Turn back, puss, puss — turn back, poor tibby 
puss — Nan loves ’oo. Annie, go fetch puss for Nan.” 
Then for the first time she discovered that Annie was 
absent, and that she was alone, with the exception of 
Mrs. Willis, who sat busily writing at a distant table. 

Mrs. Willis counted for nothing at all with Nan — 
she did not consider her of the smallest importance, 
and after giving her a quick glance of some disdain 
she began to trot round the room on a voyage of 
discovery. Any moment Annie would come back — 
Annie had, indeed, probably gone to fetch the kitten^ 
and would quickly return with it. She walked slowly 
round and round, keeping well away from that part of 
the room where Mrs. Willis sat. Presently she found 
a very choice little china jug, which she carefully sub- 
stracted with her small fingers from a cabinet, 
which contained many valuable treasures. She sat 
down on the floor exactly beneath the cabinet, and 
began to play with her jug. She went through in 
eager pantomime a little game which Annie had 
invented for her, and imagined that she was a little 
milkmaid, and that the jug was full of sweet new 
milk ; she called out to an imaginary set of purchasers, 
‘‘ Want any milk } ” and then she poured some by 
way of drops of milk into the palm of her little hand, 
K 2 


164 


A World of Girls, 


which she drank up in the name of her customers 
with considerable gusto. Presently, knocking the 
little jug with some vehemence on the floor she 
deprived it with one neat blow of its handle and 
spout Mrs. Willis was busily writing, and did not 
look up. Nan was not in the least disconcerted ; she 
said aloud — 

“ Poor tibby zug b’oke,” and then she left the 
fragments on the floor, and started off on a fresh 
voyage of discovery. This time she dragged down a 
large photographic album on to a cushion, and, kneel- 
ing by it, began to look through the pictures, flapping 
the pages together with a loud noise, and laughing 
merrily as she did so. She was now much nearer to 
Mrs. Willis, who was attracted by the sound, and 
looking up hastened to the rescue of one of her most 
precious collections of photographs. 

“Nan, dear,” she said, “shut up that book at once. 
Nan mustn’t touch. Shut the book, darling, and go 
and sit on the floor, and look at your nice-coloured 
pictures.” 

Nan, still holding a chubby hand between the 
leaves of the album, gave Mrs. Willis a full defiant 
glance, and said — 

“Me wonT.” 

“ Come, Nan,” said the head-mistress. 

“ Me want Annie,” said Nan, still kneeling by the 
album, and, bending her head over the photographs, 
she turned the page and burst into a peal of laughter. 

“ Pitty bow vow,” she said, pointing to a photo- 
graph of a retriever; “oh, pitty bow woo, Nan 
loves ’00.” 

Mrs. Willis stooped down and lifted the little girl 
}pto her arms^ 


A WELCOME Idea, 


i6s 

“ Nan, dear,” she said, “ it is naughty to disobey. 
Sit down by your picture-book, and be a good girl.” 

“ Me won’t,” said Nan again, and here she raised 
her small dimpled hand and gave Mrs. Willis a smart 
slap on her cheek. 

“ Naughty lady, me don’t like ’oo ; go ’way. Nan 
want Annie — Nan do want Annie. Me don’t love 
’oo, naughty lady ; go ’way.’*’ 

Mrs. Willis took Nan on her knee. She felt that 
the little will must be bent to hers, but the task was 
no easy one. The child scarcely knew her, she was 
still weak and excitable, and she presently burst into 
storms of tears, and sobbed and sobbed as though her 
little heart would break, her one cry being for 
“Annie, Annie, Annie.” When Annie did join her in 
the play hour, the little cheeks were flushed, the white 
brow ached, and the child’s small hands were hot and 
feverish. Mrs. Willis felt terribly puzzled. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

UNDER THE LAUREL BUSH. 

Mrs. Willis owned to herself that she was non- 
plussed ; it was quite impossible to allow Annie 
to neglect her studies, and yet little Nan’s health was 
still too precarious to allow her to run the risk of 
having the child constantly fretted. 

Suddenly a welcome idea occurred to her: she 
would write at once to Nan’s old nurse, and see if she 
could come to Lavender House for the remainder of 
the present term. Mrs. Willis dispatched her letter 
that very day, and by the following evening the nurse 


A World of Girls. 


1 66 

was once more in possession of her much-loved little 
charge. The habits of her babyhood were too strong 
for Nan; she returned to them gladly enough, and 
though in her heart of hearts she was still intensely 
loyal to Annie, she no longer fretted when she was 
not with her. 

Annie resumed her ordinary work, and though 
Hester was very cold to her, several of the other girls 
in the school frankly confided to their favourite how 
much they had missed her, and how glad they were 
to have her back with them once more. 

Annie found herself at this time in an ever-shifting 
mood — one moment she longed intensely for a kiss, 
and a fervent pardon from Mrs. Willis’s lips ; another, 
she said to herself defiantly she could and would live 
without it ; one moment the hungry and sorrowful look 
in Hester’s eyes went straight to Annie’s heart, and 
she wished she might restore her little treasure whom 
she had stolen ; the next she rejoiced in her strange 
power over Nan, and resolved to keep all the love she 
could get. 

In short, Annie was in that condition when she 
could be easily influenced for good or evil — she was 
in that state of weakness when temptation is least 
easily resisted. 

A few days after the arrival of Nan’s nurse Mrs. 
Willis was obliged unexpectedly to leave home; a 
near relative was dangerously ill in London, and the 
school-mistress went away in much trouble and 
anxiety. Some of her favourite pupils flocked to 
the front entrance to see their beloved mistress off. 
Amongst the group Cecil stood, and several girls of 
the first class ; r^any of the little girls were also 
present, but Annie was not amongst them. Just at 


Remember, I Trust YouT 167 

the last moment she rushed up breathlessly ; she was 
tying some starry jasfnine and some blue forget- 
me-nots together, and as the carriage was moving 
off she flung the charming bouquet into her mistress’s 
lap. 

Mrs. Willis rewarded her with one of her old 
looks of confidence and love ; she raised the flowers 
to her lips and kissed them, and her eyes smiled on 
Annie. 

“Good-bye, dear,” she called out; “good-bye, 
all my dear girls ; I will try and be back to-morrow 
night. Remember, my children, during my absence 
I trust you.” 

The carriage disappeared down the avenue, and 
the group of girls melted away. Cecil looked round 
for Annie, but Annie had been the first to disappear. 

When her mistress had kissed the flowers and 
smiled at her, Annie darted into the shrubbery and 
stood there wiping the fast-falling tears from her 
eyes. She was interrupted in this occupation by 
the sudden cries of two glad and eager voices, and 
instantly her hands were taken, and some girls rather 
younger than herself began to drag her in the 
opposite direction through the shrubbery. 

“ Come, Annie — come at once, Annie, darling,” 
exclaimed Phyllis and Nora Raymond. “ The basket 
has come ; it’s under the thick laurel-tree in the 
back avenue. We are all waiting for you ; we none 
of us will open it till you arrive.” 

Annie’s face, a truly April one, changed as if by 
magic. The tears dried on her cheeks ; her eyes 
filled with sunlight ; she was all eager for the coming 
fun. 

“ Then we won’t lose a moment, Phyllis,” she 






1 68 A World of Girls. 

said ; we’ll see what that duck of a Betty has done 
for us.” 

The three girls scampered down the back avenue, 
where they found five of their companions, amongst 
them Susan Drummond, standing in different atti- 
tudes of expectation near a very large and low- 
growing laurel-tree. Every one raised a shout when 
Annie appeared ; she was undoubtedly recognised 
as queen and leader of the proceedings. She took 
her post without an instant’s hesitation, and began 
ordering her willing subjects about. 

" Now, is the coast clear } yes, I think so. Come, 
Susie, greedy as you are, you must take your part. 
You alone of all of us can cackle with the exact 
imitation of an old hen : get behind that tree at 
once and watch the yard. Don’t forget to cackle 
for your life if you even see the shadow of a footfall. 
Norah, my pretty birdie, you must be the thrush for 
the nonce ; here, take your post, watch the lawn and 
the front avenue. Now then, girls, the rest of us 
can see what spoils Betty has provided for us.” 

The basket was dragged from its hiding-place, 
and longing faces peered eagerly and greedily into its 
contents. 

“ Oh, oh ! I say,' cherries ! and what a lot ! Good 
Betty ! dear, darling Betty ! you gathered those 
from your own trees, and they are as ripe as your 
apple-blossom cheeks! Now then, what next? I 
do declare, meringues ! Betty knew my weakness. 
Twelve meringues — that is one and a half apiece ; 
Susan Drummon^ sha’n’t have more than her share. 
Meringues and cheesecakes and — tartlets — oh I oh 1 
what a duck Betty is I A plum-cake — good, excellent 
Betty, she deserves to be canonised I What have we 


The Contents of the Basket. 169 

here ? Roast chickens — better and better ! What is in 
this parcel ? Slices of ham ; Betty knew she dare not 
show her face again if she forgot the ham. Knives 
and forks, spoons — fresh rolls — salt and pepper, and 
a dozen bottles of ginger-beer, and a little corkscrew 
in case we want it.” 

These various exclamations came from many lips. 
The contents of the basket were carefully and 
tenderly replaced, the lid was fastened down, and it 
was once more consigned to its hiding-place under 
the thick boughs of the laurel. 

Not a moment too soon, for just at this instant 
Susan cackled fiercely, and the little group withdrew, 
Annie first whispering — 

“ At twelve to-night, then, girls — oh, yes, I have 
managed the key.” 


CHAPTER XXVI L 

TRUANTS. 

It was a proverbial saying in the school that Annie 
Forest was always in hot water ; she was exceedingly 
daring, and loved what she called a spice of danger. 
This was not the first stolen picnic at which Annie 
reigned as queen, but this was the largest she had yet 
organised, and this was the first time she had dared 
to go out of doors with her satellites. 

Hitherto these naughty sprites had been content 
to carry their baskets full of artfully-concealed pro- 
visions to a disused attic which was exactly over the 
box-room, and consequently out of reach of the 
inhabited part of the house. Here, making a table of 


170 


A World of Girls. 


a great chest which stood in the attic, they feasted 
gloriously, undisturbed by the musty smell or by the 
innumerable spiders and beetles which disappeared 
rapidly in all directions at their approach ; but when 
Annie one day incautiously suggested that on summer 
nights the outside world was all at their disposal, they 
began to discover flaws in their banqueting-hall- 
Mary Price said the musty smell made her half sick ; 
Phyllis declared that at the sight of a spider she 
invariably turned faint ; and Susan Drummond was 
heard to murmur that in a dusty, fusty attic even 
meringues scarcely kept her awake. The girls were all 
wild to try a midnight picnic out of doors, and Annie 
in her present mood, was only too eager for the fun. 

With her usual skill she organised the whole 
undertaking, and eight agitated, slightly frightened, 
but much excited girls retired to their rooms that 
night. Annie, in her heart of hearts, felt rather sorry 
that Mrs. Willis should happen to be away ; dim ideas 
of honour and trustworthiness were still stirring in her 
breast, but she dared not think now. 

The night was in every respect propitious ; the 
moon would not rise until after twelve, so the little 
party could get away under the friendly shelter of the 
darkness, and soon afterwards have plenty of light to 
enjoy their stolen feast. They had arranged to make 
no movement until close on midnight, and then they 
were all to meet in a passage which belonged to the 
kitchen regions, and where there was a side door 
which opened dir^tly into the shrubbery. This door 
was not very often unlocked, and Annie had 
taken the key from its place in the lock some days 
before. She went to bed with her companions at nine 
o’clock as usual, and presently fell into an uneasy 


Night Doings. 


171 


doze. She awoke to hear the great clock in the hall 
strike eleven, and a few minutes afterwards she heard 
Miss Danesbury’s footsteps retiring to her room at 
the other end of the passage. 

“Danesbury is always the last to go to bed,” 
whispered Annie to herself ; “ I can get up presently.” 

She lay for another twenty minutes, then, softly 
rising, began to put on her clothes in the dark. Over 
her dress she fastened her waterproof, and placed a 
close-fitting brown velvet cap on her curly head. 
Having dressed herself, she approached Susan’s bed, 
with the intention of rousing her. 

“ I shall have fine work now,” she said, " and shall 
probably have to resort to cold water. Really, if Susy 
proves too hard to wake, I shall let her sleep on — 
her drowsiness is past bearing.” 

Annie, however, was considerably startled when 
she discovered that Miss Drummond’s bed was with- 
out an occupant. 

At this moment the room door was very softly 
opened, and Susan, fully dressed and in her water- 
proof, came in. 

“Why, Susy, where have you been?” exclaimed 
Annie. “ Fancy you being awake a moment before 
it is necessary ! ” 

“ For once in a way I was restless,” replied Miss 
Drummond, “so I thought I would get up, and take 
a turn in the passage outside. The house is perfectly 
quiet, and we can come now ; most of the girls are 
already waiting at the side door.” 

Holding their shoes in their hands, Annie and 
Susan went noiselessly down the carpetless stairs, and 
found the remaining six girls waiting for them by the 
side door. 


172 


A World of Girls, 


“ Rover is our one last danger now,” said Annie, 
as she fitted the well-oiled key into the lock. “ Put 
on your shoes, girls, and let me out first ; I think I 
can manage him.” 

She was alluding to a great mastiff which was 
usually kept chained up by day. Phyllis and Norah 
laid their hands on her arm. 

“ Oh, Annie, oh, love, suppose he seizes on you, and 
knocks you down — oh, dare you venture ? ” 

“ Let me go,” said Annie a little contemptuously ; 
“ you don’t suppose I am afraid } ” 

Her fingers trembled, for her nerves were highly 
strung; but she managed to unlock the door and draw 
back the bolts, and, opening it softly, she went out 
into the silent night. 

Very slight as the noise she made was, it had 
aroused the watchful Rover, who trotted around 
swiftly to know what was the matter. But Annie 
had made friends with Rover long ago by stealing to 
his kennel door and feeding him, and she had now but 
to say “ Rover ” in her melodious voice, and throw her 
arms around his neck, to completely subvert his 
morals. 

“ He is one of us, girls,” she called in a whisper to 
her companions ; “ come out. Rover will be as 
naughty as the rest of us, and go with us as our body- 
guard to the fairies’ field. Now, I will lock the door 
on the outside,, an^ we can be off. Ah, the moon is 
getting up splendidly, and when we have secured 
Betty^s basket, we shall be quite out of reach of 
danger.” 

At Annie’s words of encouragement the seven 
girls ventured out. She locked the door, put the key 
into her pocket, and, holding Rover by his collar, led 


Young Truants, 


173 


the way in the direction of the laurel-bush. The 
basket was secured, and Susan, to her disgust, and 
Mary Morris were elected for the first part of the way 
to carry it. The young truants then walked quickly 
down the avenue until they came to a turnstile 
which led into a wood. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

IN THE FAIRIES’ FIELD. 

The moon had now come up brilliantly, and the 
little party were in the highest possible spirits. They 
had got safely away from the house, and there was 
now, comparatively speaking, little fear of discovery. 
The more timid ones, who ventured to confess that 
their hearts were in their mouths while Annie was 
unlocking the side door, now became the most 
excited, and perhaps the boldest, under the reaction 
which set in. Even the wood, which was com- 
paratively dark, with only patches of moonlight here 
and there, and queer weird shadows where the trees 
were thinnest, could not affect their spirits. 

The poor, sleepy rabbits must have been astonished 
that night at the shouts of the revellers, as they 
hurried past them, and the birds must have taken 
their sleepy heads from under their downy wings, and 
wondered if the morning had come some hours 
before its usual time. 

More than one solemn old owl blinked at them, 
and hooted as they passed, and told them in owl 
language what silly, naughty young things they 
were, and how they would repent of this dissipation 




174 A World of u-irls. 

by-and-by. But if the girls were to have an hour of 
remorse, it did not visit them then ; their hearts were 
like feathers, and by the time they reached the fields 
where the fairies were supposed to play their spirits 
had become almost uncontrollable. 

Luckily for them this small green field lay in a 
secluded hollow, and more luckily for them no tramps 
were about to hear their merriment. . Rover, who 
constituted himself Annie’s protector, now lay down 
by her side, and as she was the real ringleader and 
queen of the occasion, she ordered her subjects about 
pretty sharply. 

“Now, girls, quick; open the basket. Yes, I’m 
going to rest. I have organised the whole thing, and 
I’m fairly tired ; so I’ll just sit quietly here, and 
Rover will take care of me while you set things 
straight. Ah ! good Betty ; she did not even forget 
the white table-cloth.” 

Here one of the girls remarked casually that the 
grass was wet with dew, and that it was well they 
had all put on their waterproofs. 

Annie interrupted again in a petulant voice — 

“ Don’t croak, Mary Morris. Out with the 
chickens, lay the ham in this corner, and the cherries 
will make a picturesque pile in the middle. Twelve 
meringues in all, that means a meringue and a hall 
each. We shajl have some difficulty in dividing. 
Oh. dear ! oh, dear ! how hungry I am ! I was far 
too excited to eat- anything at supper-time.” 

“ So was I,” said Phyllis, coming up and pressing 
close to Annie. “ I do think Miss Danesbury cuts 
the bread and butter too thick — don’t you, Annie } 
I could not eat mine at all, to-night, and Cecil 
Temple asked me if I was not well,” 


In Fairy-land, 


175 


“Those who don’t want chicken hold up their 
hands,” here interrupted Annie, who had tossed her 
brown cap on the grass, and between whose brows 
a faint frown had passed for an instant at the mention 
of Cecil’s name. 

The feast now began in earnest, and silence 
reigned for a short time, broken only by the clatter of 
plates, and such an occasional remark as “ Pass the 
salt, please,” “ Pepper this way, if you’ve no objec- 
tion,” “ How good chicken tastes in fairy-land,” &c. 
At last the ginger-beer bottles began to pop — the 
girls’ first hunger was appeased. Rover gladly 
crunched up all the bones, and conversation flowed 
once more, accompanied by the delicate diversion of 
taking alternate bites at meringues and cheesecakes. 

“ I wish the fairies would come out,” said Annie. 

“ Oh, don’t ! ” shivered Phyllis, looking round her 
nervously. ^ 

“Annie, darling, do tell us a ghost story,” cried 
several voices. 

Annie laughed, and commenced a series of non- 
sense tales, all of a slightly eerie character, which she 
made up on the spot. 

The moon riding high in the heavens looked 
down on the young giddy heads, and their laughter, 
naughty as they were, sounded sweet in the night 
air. 

Time flew quickly, and the girls suddenly dis- 
covered that they must pack up their table-cloth and 
remove all traces of the feast unless they wished the 
bright light of morning to discover them. They rose 
hastily, sighing, and slightly depressed now that 
their fun was over. The white table-cloth, no longer 
very white, was packed into the basket, the ginger- 




176 A World of Girls. 

beer bottles placed on top of it, and the lid fastened 
down. Not a crumb of the feast remained ; Rover 
had demolished the bones, and the eight girls had 
made short work of everything else, with the excep- 
tion of the cherry-stones, which Phyllis carefully 
collected and popped into a little hole in the ground. 

The party then progressed slowly homewards, 
and once more entered the dark wood. They were 
much more silent now; the wood was darker, and 
the chill which foretells the dawn was making itself 
felt in the air. Either the sense of cold or a certain 
effect produced by Annie’s ridiculous stories, made 
many of the little party unduly nervous. 

They had only taken a few steps through the 
wood when Phyllis suddenly uttered a piercing shriek. 
This shriek was echoed by Nora and by Mary Morris, 
and all their hearts seemed to leap into their mouths 
when' they saw something move amgng the trees. 
Rover uttered a growl, and, but for Annie’s detaining 
hand, would have sprung forward. The high-spirited 
girl was not to be easily daunted. 

^‘Behold, girls, the goblin of the woods,” she 
exclaimed. Quiet, Rover ; stand still.” 

The next instant the fears of the little party 
reached their ^ulmination when a tall, dark figure 
stood directly in their paths. 

“ If you don’t let us pass at once,” said Annie’s 
voice, I’ll set Rover at you.” 

The dog began to bark loudly, and quivered from 
head to foot. 

The figure moved a little to one side, and a rather 
deep and slightly dramatic voice said — 

“ I mean you no harm, young ladies j I’m only a 
gipsy-mother from the tents yonder. You are 


The Cipsy-Mothee. 


m 

welcome to get back to Lavender House. I have 
then one course plain before me.” 

“ Come on, girls,” said Annie, now considerably 
frightened, while Phyllis, and Nora, and one or two 
more began to sob. 

“Look here, young ladies,” said the gipsy in a 
whining voice, “I don’t mean you no harm, my 
pretties, and it’s no affair of mine telling the good 
ladies at Lavender House what I’ve seen. You cross 
my hand, dears, each of you, with a bit of silver, and 
all I’ll do is to tell your pretty fortunes, and mum is 
the word with the gipsy-mother as far as this night’s 
prank is concerned.” 

“We had better do it, Annie — we had better do 
it,” here sobbed Phyllis. “ If this was found out by 
Mrs. Willis we might be expelled — we might, indeed; 
and that horrid woman is sure to tell of us — I know 
she is.” 

“Quite sure to tell, dear,” said the tall gipsy, 
dropping a curtsey in a manner which looked fright- 
fully sarcastic in the long shadows made by the trees. 
“Quite sure to tell, and to be expelled is the very 
least that could happen to such naughty little ladies. 
Here’s a nice little bit of clearing in the wood, and 
we’ll all come over, and Mother Rachel will tell your 
fortunes in a twinkling, and no one will be the wiser. 
Sixpence a-piece, my dears — only sixpence a-piece.” 

“Oh, come; do, do come,” said Nora, and the 
next moment they were all standing in a circle round 
Mother Rachel, who pocketed her black-mail eagerly, 
and repeated some gibberish over each little hand. 
Over Annie’s palm she lingered for a brief moment, 
and looked with her penetrating- eves into the girl’s 
face. 


178 


A World of Girls. 


“ You’ll have suffering before you, miss ; some 
suspicion, and danger even to life itself But you’ll 
triumph, my dear, you’ll triumph. You’re a plucky 
one, and you’ll do a brave deed. There — good-night, 
young ladies ; you have nothing more to fear from 
Mother Rachel.’^ 

The tall dark figure disappeared into the blackest 
shadows of the wood, and the girls, now like so many 
frightened hares, flew home. They deposited their 
basket where Betty would find it, under the shadow 
of the great laurel in the back avenue. They all 
bade Rover an affectionate “ good-night.” Annie softly 
unlocked the side-door, and one by one, with their 
shoes in their hands, they regained their bedrooms. 
They were all very tired, and very cold, and a dull 
fear and sense of insecurity rested over each little 
heart. Suppose Mother Rachel proved unfaithful, 
notwithstanding the sixpences ? 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

HESTER’S FORGOTTEN BOOK. 

It wanted scarcely three weeks to the holidays, and 
therefore scarcely three weeks to that auspicious day 
when Lavender House was to be the scene of one 
long triumph, and was to be the happy spot selected 
for a Midsummer holiday, accompanied by all that 
could make a holiday perfect — for youth and health 
would be there, and even the unsuccessful competitors 
for the great prizes would not have too sore hearts, 
for they would know that on the next day they were 
going home. Each girl who had done her best would 


179 






The Elixir of Happiness. 

have a word of commendation, and only those who 
were very naughty, or very stubborn, could resist the 
all-potent elixir of happiness which would be poured 
out so abundantly for Mrs. Willis’s pupils on this 
day. 

Now that the time was drawing so near, those girls 
who were working for prizes found themselves fully 
occupied from morning to night. In play-hours even, 
girls would be seen with their heads bent over their 
books, and, between the prizes and the acting, no little 
bees in any hive could be more constantly employed 
than were these young girls just now. 

No happiness is, after all, to be compared to the 
happiness of healthful occupation. Busy people have 
no time to fret and no time to grumble. According 
to our old friend. Dr. Watts, people who are healthily 
busy have also no time to be naughty, for the old 
doctor says that it is for idle hands that mischief is 
prepared. 

Be that as it may, and there is great truth in it, 
some naughty sprites, some bad fairies, were flitting 
around and about that apparently peaceful atmosphere. 
That sunny home, governed by all that was sweet and 
good, was not without its serpent. 

Of all the prizes which attracted interest and 
aroused competition, the prize for English composition 
was this year the most popular. In the first place, 
this was known to be Mrs. Willis’s own favourite 
subject. She had a great wish that her girls should 
write intelligibly — she had a greater wish that, if 
possible, they should think. 

“ Never was there so much written and printed,” 
she was often heard to say ; “ but can any one show 
me a book with thoughts in it ? Can any one show me, 
L Z 


4 




i8o A World of Girls. 

unless as a rare exception, a book which will live? 
Oh, yes, these books which issue from the press in 
thousands are, many of them, very smart, a great 
many of them clever, but they are thrown off too 
quickly. All great things, great books amongst them, 
must be evolved slowly.” 

Then she would tell her pupils what she con- 
sidered the reason of this. 

“ In these days,” she would say, “ all girls are 
what is called highly educated. Girls and boys alike 
must go in for competitive examinations, must take 
out diplomas, and must pass certain standards of 
excellence. The system is cramming from beginning 
to end. There 'is no time for reflection. In short, 
my dear girls, you swallow a great deal, but you do 
not digest your intellectual food.” 

Mrs. Willis hailed with pleasure any little dawn- 
ings of real thought in her girls’ prize essays. More 
than once she bestowed the prize upon the essay which 
seemed to the girls the most crude and unfinished. 

“ Never mind,” she would say, “here is an idea — 
or at least half an idea. This little bit of composition 
is original, and not, at best, a poor imitation of Sir 
Walter Scott or Lord Macaulay.” 

Thus the girls found a strong stimulus to be 
their real selves in these little essays, and the best 
of them chose their subject and let it ferment in 
their brains without the aid of books, except for the 
more technical parts. 

More than one girl in the school was surprised 
at Dora Russell exerting herself to try for the prize 
essay. She was just about to close her school career, 
and they could not make out why she roused herself 
to work for the most difficult prize, for which she 




" Why do You Try?'' i 8 i 

would have to compete with any girl in the school 
who chose to make a similar attempt. 

Dora, however, had her own, not very high mo- 
tive for making the attempt. She was a thoroughly 
accomplished girl, graceful in her appearance and 
manner ; in short, just the sort of girl who would 
be supposed to do credit to a school. She played 
with finish, and even delicacy of touch. There was 
certainly no soul in her music, but neither were there 
any wrong notes. Her drawings were equally cor- 
rect, her perspective good, her trees were real trees, 
and the colouring of her water-colour sketches was 
pure. She spoke French extremely well, and with 
a correct accent, and her German also was above the 
average. Nevertheless, Dora was common-place, and 
those girls who knew her best spoke sarcastically, 
and smiled at one another when she alluded to 
her prize essay, and seemed confident of being the 
successful competitor. 

“You won’t like to be beaten, Dora, say, by 
Annie Forest,” they would laughingly remark ; 
whereupon Dora’s calm face, would slightly flush 
and her lips would assume a very proud curve. 
If there was one thing she could not bear it was to 
be beaten. 

“ Why do you try for it, Dora } ” her class-fellows 
would ask ; but here Dora made no reply : she kept 
her reason to herself. 

The fact was, Dora, who must be a copyist to the 
end of the chapter, and who could never to her latest 
day do anything original, had determined to try 
for the composition prize because she happened 
accidentally to hear a conversation between Mrs. 
Willis and Miss Danesbury, in which something 


i 82 a World of Girls, 

was said about a gold locket with Mrs. Willis’s 
portrait inside. 

Dora instantly jumped at the conclusion that 
this was to be the great prize bestowed upon the 
successful essayist. Delightful idea ; how well the 
trinket would look round her smooth white throat ! 
Instantly she determined to try for this prize, and 
of course as instantly the bare idea of defeat became 
intolerable to her. She went steadily and methodi- 
cally to work. With extreme care she chose her 
subject. Knowing something of Mrs. Willis’s pecu- 
liarities, she determined that her theme should not 
be historical ; she believed that she could express 
herself freely and with power if only she could secure 
an unhackneyed subject. Suddenly an idea which 
she considered brilliant occurred to her. She would 
call her composition “ The River.” This should not 
bear reference to Father Thames, or any other special 
river of England, but it should trace the windings 
of some fabled stream of Dora’s imagination, which, 
as it flowed along, should tell something of the story 
of the many places by which it passed. Dora was 
charmed with her own thought, and worked hard, 
evening after evening, at her subject, covering sheets 
of manuscript paper with pencilled jottings, and 
arranging and rearranging her somewhat confused 
thoughts. She greatly admired a perfectly rounded 
period, and she was most particular as to the style 
in which she wrote. For the purpose of improving 
her style she even studied old volumes of Addison’s 
Spectator ; but after a time she gave up this course 
of study, for she found it so difficult to mould her 
English to Addison’s that she came to the comfort- 
able conclusion that Addison was decidedly obsolete, 




Her First Ten Pages, 183 

and that if she wished to do full justice to “The 
River” she must trust to her own unaided genius. 

At last the first ten pages were written. The 
subject was entered upon with considerable flourishes, 
and some rather apt poetical quotations from a book 
containing a collection of poems ; the river itself had 
already left its home in the mountain, and was career- 
ing merrily past sunny meadows and little rural, 
impossible cottages, where the golden-haired children 
played. 

Dora made a very neat copy of her essay so far. 
She now began to see her way clearly — there would 
be a very powerful passage as the river approached 
the murky town. Here, indeed, would be room for 
powerful and pathetic writing. She wondered if 
she might venture so far as to hide a suicide in her 
rushing waters ; and then at last the brawling river 
would lose itself in the sea ; and, of course, there would 
not be the smallest connection between her river, 
and Kingsley’s well-known song, 

“ Clear and cool.” 

She finished writing her ten pages, and being 
now positively certain of her gold locket, went to 
bed in a happy state of mind. 

This was the very night when Annie was to lead 
her revellers through the dark wood, but Dora, who 
never troubled herself about the younger classes, 
would have been certainly the last to notice the fact 
that a few of the girls in Lavender House seemed 
little disposed to eat their suppers of thick bread- 
and-butter and milk. She went to bed and dreamt 
happy dreams about her golden locket, and had 
little idea that any mischief was about to be per- 
formed. 


1 84 


A World of Girls, 


Hester Thornton also, but in a very different 
spirit, was working hard at her essay. Hester 
worked conscientiously ; she had chosen “ Marie 
Antoinette ” as her theme, and she read the sorrowful 
story of the beautiful queen with intense interest, 
and tried hard to get herself into the spirit of the 
times about which she must write. She had scarcely 
begun her essay yet, but she had already collected 
most of the historical facts. 

Hester was a very careful little student, and as 
she prepared herself for the great work, she thought 
little or nothing about the prize she only wanted to 
do justice to the unfortunate Queen of France. She 
was in bed that night, and just dropping off to sleep, 
when she suddenly remembered that she had left a 
volume of French poetry on her school desk. This 
was against the rules, and she knew that Miss 
Danesbury would confiscate the book in the morning, 
and would not let her have it back for a week. 
Hester particularly wanted this special book just 
now, as some of the verses bore reference to her 
subject, and she could scarcely get on with her essay 
without having it to refer to. She must lose no time 
in instantly beginning to write her essay, and to do 
without her book of poetry for a week would be a 
serious injury to her. 

She resolved, therefore, to break through one of the 
rules, and, after lying awake until the whole house 
was quiet, to slip downstairs, enter the schoolroom 
and secure her poems. She heard the clock strike 
eleven, and she knew that in a very few moments 
Miss Danesbury and Miss Good would have retired to 
their rooms. Ah, yes, that was Miss Danesbury’s step 
passing her door. Ten minutes later she glided out 


What the Moon Revealed. 185 

of bed, slipped on her dressing-gown, and opening 
her door ran swiftly down the carpetless stairs, and 
found herself in the great stone hall which led to the 
schoolroom. 

She was surprised to find the schoolroom door 
a little ajar, but she entered the room without 
hesitation, and, dark as it was, soon found her desk, 
and the book of poems lying on the top. Hester 
was about to return when she was startled by a 
little noise in that portion of the room where the 
first class girls sat. The next moment somebody 
came heavily and rather clumsily down the room, 
and the moon which was just beginning to rise fell 
for an instant on a girl’s face. Hester recognised 
the face of Susan Drummond. What could she be 
doing here ? She did not dare to speak, for she 
herself had broken a rule in visiting the schoolroom. 
She remained, therefore, perfectly still until Susan’s 
steps died away, and then, thankful to have secured 
her own property, returned to her bedroom, and a 
moment or two later was sound asleep. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

"A MUDDY STREAM.” 

In the morning Dora Russell sat down as usual 
before her orderly and neatly-kept desk. She 
raised the lid to find everything in its place — her 
books and exercises all as they should be, and her 
pet essay in a neat brown paper cover, lying just 
as she had left it the night before. She was really 
getting quite excited about her river, and as this 


86 


A World of Girls. 


was a half-holiday, she determined to have a good 
work at it in the afternoon. She was beginning 
also to experience that longing for an auditor 
which occasionally is known to trouble the breasts 
of genius. She felt that those graceful ideas, that 
elegant language, those measured periods, might 
strike happily on some other ears before they were 
read aloud as the great work of the Midsummer 
holidays. 

She knew that Hester Thornton was making 
what she was pleased to term a poor little attempt 
at trying for the same prize. Hester would 
scarcely venture to copy anything from Dora’s 
essay; she would probably be discouraged, poor 
girl, in working any longer at her own compo- 
sition; but Dora felt that the temptation to read 
“The River,” as far as it had gone, to Hester was 
really too great to be resisted. Accordingly, after 
dinner she graciously invited Hester to accom- 
pany her to a bower in the garden, where the 
two friends might revel over the results of Dora’s 
extraordinary talents. 

Hester was still, to a certain extent, under 
Dora’s influence, and had not the courage to tell 
her that she intended to be very busy over her own 
essay this afternoon. 

“Now, Hester, dear,” said Dora, when they 
found themselves both seated in the bower, “ you 
are the only girl in the school to whom I could 
confide the subject of my great essay. I really 
belie'J^e that I have hit on something absolutely 
original. My dear child, I hope you wonT allow 
yourself to be discouraged. I fear that you won’t 
have much heart to go on with your theme 




Hackneyed, my Dear Girl** 187 

after you have read my words ; but, never mind, 
dear, it will be good practice for you, and you 
know it was rather silly to go in for a prize which 
I intended to compete for.” 

“ May I read your essay, please, Dora ? ” asked 
Hester. “ I am very much interested in my own 
study, and, whether I win the prize or not, I shall 
always remember the pleasure I took in writing it.” 

“What subject did you select, dear?” inquired 
Miss Russell. 

“ Well, I am attempting a little sketch of Marie 
Antoinette.” 

“Ah, hackneyed, my dear girl — terribly hack- 
neyed ; but, of course, I don’t mean to discourage 
you. Now I — I draw a life-picture, and I call it 
‘The River.’ See how it begins — why, I declare I 
know the words by heart, ‘ As our eyes rest on this 

clear and limpid stream, as we see the sun sparkle ’ 

My dear Hester, you shall read me my essay aloud. 
I shall like to hear my own words from your lips, 
and you have really a pretty accent, dear.” 

Hester folded back the brown-paper cover, and 
wanting to have her task over began to read 
hastily. But, as her eyes rested on the first lines, 
she turned to her companion, and said — 

“ Did you not tell me that your essay was called 
‘ The River ’ ? ” 

“ Yes, dear ; the full title is ‘ The Windings of a 
Noble River.’ 

“ That’s very odd,” replied Hester. “ What I see 
here is ‘ The Meanderings of a Muddy Stream.’ ^ As 
our dull orbs rest on this turbid zvater on which the sun 
cannot possibly shinel Why, Dora, this cannot be your 
essay, and yet, surely, it is your handwriting/' 


i88 


A World of Girls, 


Dora, with her face suddenly flushing a vivid 
crimson, snatched the manuscript from Hester’s 
hand, and looked over it eagerly. Alas ! there was 
no doubt. The title of this essay was “The Meander- 
ings of a Muddy Stream,” and the words which 
immediately followed were a smart and ridiculous 
parody on her own high-flown sentences. The 
resemblance to her handwriting was perfect. The 
brown paper cover, neatly sewn on to protect the 
white manuscript, was undoubtedly her cover ; the 
very paper on which the words were written seemed 
in all particulars the same. Dora turned the sheets 
eagerly, and here for the first time she saw a differ- 
ence. Only four or five pages of the nonsense essay 
had been attempted, and the night before, when 
finishing her toil, she had proudly numbered her 
tenth page. She looked through the whole thing, 
turning leaf after leaf, while her cheeks were crimson, 
and her hands trembled. In the first moment of 
horrible humiliation and dismay she literally could 
not speak. 

At last, springing to her feet, and confronting 
the astonished and almost frightened Hester, she 
found her voice. 

“ Hester, you must help me in this. The most 
dreadful, the most atrocious fraud has been com- 
mitted. Some one has been base enough, audacious 
enough, wicked enough, to go to my desk privately, 
and |ake away my real essay — my work over which 
I have laboured and toiled. The expressions of my 
— my — yes, I will say it — my genius, have been 
ruthlessly burnt, or otherwise made away with, and 
this thing has been put in their place. Hester, why 
don’t you speak — why do you stare at me like this ? ” 



“ The Writing is Yours*' 189 

“ I am puzzled by the writing,” said Hester ; “ the 
writing is yours.” 

“ The writing is mine ! — oh, you wicked girl ! 
The writing is an imitation of mine — a feeble and 
poor imitation. I thought, Hester, that by this time 
you knew your friend’s handwriting. I thought that 
one in whom I have confided — one whom I have 
stooped to notice because I fancied we had a com- 
munity of soul, would not be so ridiculous and so 
silly as to mistake this writing for mine. Look again, 
please, Hester Thornton, and tell me if I am ever so 
vulgar as to cross my fs. You know I always loop 
them ; and do I make a capital B in this fashion ? 
And do I indulge in flourishes } I grant you that 
the general effect to a casual observer would be 
something the same, but you, Hester — I thought you 
knew me better.” 

Here Hester, examining the false essay, had to 
confess that the crossed fs and the flourishes were 
unlike Miss Russell’s calligraphy. 

“ It is a forgery, most cleverly done,” said Dora. 
“There is such a thing, Hester, as being wickedly 
clever. This spiteful, cruel attempt to injure another 
can have but proceeded from one very low order of 
mind. Hester, there has been plenty of favouritism 
in this school, but do you suppose I shall allow such 
a thing as this to pass over unsearched into ? If 
necessary, I shall ask my father to interfere. This is 
a slight — an outrage ; but the whole mystery shall at 
last be cleared up. Miss Good and Miss Danesbury 
shall be informed at once, and the very instant Mrs. 
Willis returns she shall be told what a serpent she has 
been nursing in this false, wicked girl, Annie Forest.” 

“Stop, Dora,” said Hester suddenly. She sprang 


1 90 A World of Girls. 

to her feet, clasping her hands, and her colour varied 
rapidly from white to red. A sudden light poured in 
upon her, and she was about to speak when some- 
thing — quite a small, trivial thing — occurred. She 
only saw little Nan in the distance flying swiftly, with 
outstretched arms, to meet a girl, whose knees she 
clasped in baby ecstasy. The girl stooped down 
and kissed the little face, and the round arms were 
flung around her neck. The next instant Annie 
Forest continued her walk alone, and Nan, looking 
wistfully back after her, went in another direction 
with her nurse. The whole scene took but a moment 
to enact, but as she watched, Hester’s face grew hard 
and white. She sat down again, with her lips firmly 
pressed together. 

“What is it, Hester?” exclaimed Dora. “What 
were you going to say ? You surely know nothing 
about this } ” 

“ Well, Dora, I am not the guilty person. I was 
only going to remark that you cannot be sure it is 
Annie Forest.” 

“ Oh, so you are going to take that horrid girl’s 
part now ? I wonder at you ! She all but killed your 
little sister, and then stole her love away from you* 
Did you see the little thing now, how she flew to her ? 
Why, she never kisses you like that.” 

I know — I know,” said Hester, and she turned 
awly her face with a groan, and leant forward against 
the rustic bench, pressing her hot forehead down on 
her hands. 

“You’ll have your triumph, Hester, when Miss 
Forest is publicly expelled,” said Dora, tapping her 
lightly on the shoulder, and then, taking up the forged 
essay, she went slowly out of the garden. 




I9I 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

GOOD AND BAD ANGELS. 

Hester stayed behind in the shady little arbour, and 
then, on that soft spring day, while the birds sang 
overhead, and the warm light breezes came in and 
fanned her hot. cheeks, good angels and bad drew 
near to fight for a victory. Which would conquer } 
Hester had many faults, but hitherto she had been 
honourable and truthful ; her sins had been those of 
pride and jealousy, but she had never told a falsehood 
in her life. She knew perfectly — she trembled as the 
full knowledge overpowered her — that she had it in 
her power to exonerate Annie. She could not in the 
least imagine how stupid Susan Drummond could 
contrive and carry out such a clever and deep-laid 
plot ; but she knew also that if she related what she 
had seen with her own eyes the night before, she 
would probably give such a clue to the apparent 
mystery that the truth would come to light. 

If Annie was cleared from this accusation, doubt- 
less the old story of her supposed guilt with regard to 
Mrs. Willis’s caricature would also be read with its 
right key. Hester was a clever and sharp girl ; and 
the fact of seeing Susan Drummond in the schoolroom 
in the dead of night opened her eyes also to one or 
two other apparent little mysteries. While Susan 
was her own room-mate she had often given a passing 
wonder to the fact of her extraordinary desire to 
overcome her sleepiness, and had laughed over the 
expedient? Susan bad used to wake at all moments. 


192 A World of Girls. 

These things, at the time, had scarcely given her a 
moment’s serious reflection ; but now she pondered 
them carefully, and became more and more certain 
that, for some inexplicable and unfathomable reason, 
sleepy, and apparently innocent, Susan Drummond 
wished to sow the seeds of mischief and discord in the 
school. Hester was sure that if she chose to speak 
now she could clear poor Annie, and restore her to 
her lost place in Mrs. Willis’s favour. 

Should she do so? — ah! should she? Her lips 
trembled, her colour came and went as the angels, 
good and bad, fought hard for victory within her. 
How she had longed to revenge herself on Annie ! 
How cordially she had hated her! Now was the 
moment of her revenge. She had but to remain 
silent now, and to let matters take their course ; she 
had but to hold her tongue about the little incident 
of last night, and, without any doubt, circumstantial 
evidence would point at Annie Forest, and she would 
be expelled from the school. Mrs. Willis must con- 
demn her now. Mr. Everard must pronounce her 
guilty now. She would go, and when the coast was 
again clear the love which she had taken from Hester 
— the precious love of Hester’s only little sister — 
would return. 

“You will be miserable; you will be miserable,” 
whispered the good angels sorrowfully in her ear ; but 
she did not listen to them. 

said I would revenge myself, and this is my 
opportunity,” she murmured. “ Silence — ^just simply 
silence — will be my revenge.” 

Then the good angels went sorrowfully back to 
their Father in heaven, and the wicked angels re- 
joiced. Hester had fallen very low. 


193 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

FRESH SUSPICIONS. 

Mrs. Willis was not at home many hours before 
Dora Russell begged for an interview with her. 
Annie had not as yet heard anything of the changed 
essay ; for Dora had resolved to keep the thing a 
secret until Mrs. Willis herself took the matter in 
hand. 

Annie was feeling not a little anxious and de- 
pressed. She was sorry now that she had led the 
girls that wild escapade through the wood. Phyllis 
and Nora were both suffering from heavy colds in 
consequence, and Susan Drummond was looking more 
pasty about her complexion, and was more dismally 
sleepy than usual. Annie was going through her 
usual season of intense remorse after one of her wild 
pranks. No one repented with more apparent fervor 
than she did, and yet no one so easily succumbed to 
the next temptation. Had Annie been alone in the 
matter she would have gone straight to Mrs. Willis 
and confessed all ; but she could not do this without 
implicating her companions, who would have screamed 
with horror at the very suggestion. 

All the girls were more or less depressed by the 
knowledge that the gipsy woman. Mother Rachel, 
shared their secret; and they often whispered together 
as to the chances of her betraying them. Old Betty 
they could trust ; for Betty, the cake-woman, had 
been an arch-conspirator with the naughty girls of 
Lavender House from time immemorial. Betty had 
M 


194 


A World of Girls, 


always managed to provide their stolen suppers for 
them, and had been most accommodating in the 
matter of pay. Yes, with Betty they felt they were 
safe ; but Mother Rachel was a different person. She 
might like to be paid a few more sixpences for her 
silence ; she • might hover about the grounds ; she 
might be noticed. At any moment she might boldly 
demand an interview with Mrs. Willis. 

“ I’m awfully afraid of Mother Rachel,” Phyllis 
moaned, as she shivered under the influence of her 
bad cold. 

Nora said “ I should faint if I saw her again, I 
know I should while the other girls always went out 
provided with stray sixpences, in case the gipsy 
mother should start up from some unexpected quarter 
and demand black-mail. 

On the day of Mrs. Willis’s return, Annie was 
pacing up and down the shady walk, and indulging 
in some rather melancholy and regretful thoughts, 
when Susan Drummond and Mary Morris rushed up 
to her, white with terror. 

“She’s down there, by the copse, and she’s 
beckoning to us ! Oh, do come with us — do, darling, 
dear Annie.” 

“ There’s no use in it,” replied Annie ; “ Mother 
Rachel wants money, and I am not going to give 
he^ any. Don’t be afraid of her, girls, and don’t give 
her money. After all, why should she tell on us } she 
would gain nothing by doing so.” 

“ Oh, yes, she would, Annie — she would, Annie,” 
said Mary Morris, beginning to sob ; “ oh, do come 
with us, do ! We must pacify her, we really must.” 

“I can’t come now,’" said Annie; “hark! some 
one is calling me. Yes, Miss Danesbury—what is it > ” 


An Interview with Mrs. Willis. 195 

“ Mrs. Willis wishes to see you at once, Annie, in 
her private sitting-room/^ replied Miss Danesbury ; 
and Annie, wondering not a little, but quite un- 
suspicious, ran off. 

The fact, however, of her having deliberately dis- 
obeyed Mrs. Willis, and done something which she 
knew would greatly pain her, brought a shade of 
embarrassment to her usually candid face. She had also 
to confess to herself that she did not feel quite so com- 
fortable about Mother Rachel as she had given Mary 
Morris and Susan Drummond to understand. Her 
steps lagged more and more as she approached the 
house, and she wished, oh, how longingly ! oh, how 
regretfully ! that she had not been naughty and wild 
and disobedient in her beloved teacher’s absence. 

“ But where is the use of regretting what is done ? ” 
she said, half aloud. “ I know I can never be good — 
never, never ! ” 

She pushed aside the heavy velvet curtains which 
shaded the door of the private sitting-room, and went 
in, to find Mrs. Willis seated by her desk, very pale 
and tired and unhappy looking, while Dora Russell, 
with crimson spots on her cheeks and a very angry 
glitter in her eyes, stood by the mantel-piece. 

“ Come here, Annie dear,” said Mrs. Willis in her 
usual gentle and affectionate tone. 

Annie’s first wild impulse was to rush to her 
governess’s side, to fling her arms round her neck, and, 
as a child would confess to her mother, to tell her all 
that story of the walk through the wood, and the 
stolen picnic in the fairies’ field. Three things, however, 
restrained her — she must not relieve her own troubles 
at the expense of betraying others ; she could not, 
even if she were willing, say a word in the presence of 
M Z 


A World of Girls, 


196 

this cold and angry-looking Dora ; in the third place, 
Mrs. Willis looked very tired and very sad. Not for 
worlds would she add to her troubles at this instant. 
She came into the room, however, with a slight hesita- 
tion of manner, and a clouded brow, which caused 
Mrs. Willis to watch her with anxiety, and Dora 
with triumph. 

“ Come here, Annie,” repeated the governess. “ I 
want to speak to you. Something very dishonourable 
and disgraceful has been done in my absence.” 

Annie’s face suddenly became as white as a sheet. 
Could the gipsy mother have already betrayed them all.^ 

Mrs. Willis, noticing her too evident confusion, 
continued in a voice which, in spite of herself, became 
stern and severe. 

“ I shall expect the truth at any cost, my dear. 
Look at this manuscript-book. Do you know any- 
thing of the handwriting ? ” 

“ Why, it is yours, of course, Dora,” said Annie, 
who was now absolutely bewildered. 

“It is not mine,” began Dora, but Mrs. Willis 
held up her hand. 

“Allow me to speak. Miss Russell. I can best 
explain matters. Annie, during my absence some 
one has been guilty of a very base and wicked act. 
One of the girls in this school has gone secretly to 
Dora Russell’s desk, and taken away ten pages of an 
essay which she had called ‘ The River,’ and which 
she was preparing for the prize competition next 
month. Instead of Dora’s essay this that you now 
see was put in its place. Examine it, my dear. Can 
you tell me anything about it ? ” 

Annie took the manuscript-book, and turned the 
leaves. 


The Parody. 


197 


“Is it meant for a parody ? ” she asked, after a 
pause ; “ it sounds ridiculous. No, Mrs. Willis, I 
know nothing whatever about it ; some one has 
imitated Dora’s handwriting. I cannot imagine who 
is the culprit.” 

She threw the manuscript-book with a certain easy 
carelessness on the table by her side, and glanced up 
with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes at Dora. 

“ I suppose it is meant for a clever parody,” she 
repeated ; “ at least it is amusing.” 

Her manner displeased Mrs. Willis, and very 
nearly maddened poor Dora. 

“We have not sent for you, Annie,” said her 
teacher, “ to ask you your opinion of the parody, but 
to try and get you to throw light on the subject. We 
must find out, and at once, who has been so wicked as 
to deliberately injure another girl.” 

“ But why have you sent for me ? ” asked Annie, 
drawing herself up, and speaking with a little shade 
of haughtiness. 

“ Because,” said Dora Russell, who could no longer 
contain her outraged feelings, “ because you alone 
can throw light on it — because you alone in the school 
are base enough to do anything so mean — because 
you alone can caricature.” 

“ Oh, that is it,” said Annie ; “ you suspect me, 
then. Do you suspect me, Mrs. Willis?” 

“ My dear — what can I say ? ” 

“ Nothing, if you do. In this school my word has 
long gone for nothing. I am a naughty, headstrong, 
wilful girl, but in this matter I am perfectly innocent. 
I never saw that essay, before ; I never in all my life 
went to Dora Russell’s desk. I am headstrong and 
wild, but I don’t do spiteful things. I have no object 


A World of Girls, 


198 

in injuring Dora ; she is nothing to me — nothing 
She is trying for the essay prize, but she has no 
chance of winning it. Why should I trouble myself 
to injure her.? why should I even take the pains 
to parody her words and copy her handwriting? 
Mrs. Willis, you need not believe me — I see you do 
not believe me — but I am quite innocent.” 

Here Annie burst into sudden tears, and ran out 
of the room. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

UNTRUSTWORTHY. 

Dora Russell had declared, in Hester’s presence, 
and with intense energy in her manner, that the 
author of the insult to which she had been exposed 
should be publicly punished, and, if possible, ex- 
pelled. On the evening of her interview with the head . 
teacher, she had so far forgotten herself as to reiterate 
this desire with extreme vehemence. She had boldly 
declared her firm conviction of Annie’s guilt, and had 
broadly hinted at Mrs. Willis’s favouritism towards 
her. The great dignity, however, of her teacher’s 
manner, and the half- sorrowful, half-indignant look 
she bestowed on the excited girl, calmed her down 
after a time. Mrs. Willis felt full sympathy for 
Dora, and could well understand how trying and 
aggravating this practical joke must be to so proud 
a girl ; but although her faith was undoubtedly 
shaken in Annie, she would not allow this senti- 
ment to appear. 

“I will do all I can for you, Dora,” she said, 


How Stupid you are?^* 199 

when the weeping Annie had left the room; “I 
will do everything in my power to find out who 
has injured you. Annie has absolutely denied the 
accusation you bring against her, and unless her 
guilt can be proved it is but right to believe her 
innocent. There are many other girls in Lavender 
House, and to-morrow morning I will sift this un- 
pleasant affair to the very bottom. Go, now, my 
dear, and if you have sufficient self-command and 
self-control, try to have courage to write your essay 
over again. I have no doubt that your second 
rendering of your subject will be more attractive 
than the first. Beginners cannot too often re-write 
their themes.” 

Dora gave her head a proud little toss, but she 
was sufficiently in awe of Mrs. Willis to keep back 
any retort, and she went out of the room feeling 
unsatisfied and wretched, and inclined for a sym- 
pathising chat with her little friend, Hester Thornton. 

Hester, however, when she reached her, seemed 
not at all disposed to talk to any one. 

“ I’ve had it all out with Mrs. Willis, and there 
is no doubt she will be exposed to-morrow morning,” 
said Dora, half aloud. 

Hester, whose head was bent over her French 
history, looked up with an annoyed expression. 

“ Who will be exposed ? ” she asked, in a 
petulant voice. 

“ Oh, how stupid you are growing, Hester Thorn- 
ton ! exclaimed Dora ; “ why, that horrid Annie 
Forest, of course — but really I have no patience to 
talk to you ; you have lost all your spirit I 
was very foolish to demean myself by taking so 
much notice of one of the little girls.” 


200 


A IVOJ^LD OF G/FLS, 


Dora sailed down the playroom to her own 
drawing-room, fully expecting Hester to rise and 
rush after her; but to her surprise Hester did not 
stir, but sat with her head bent over her book, and 
her cheeks slightly flushed. 

The next morning Mrs. Willis kept her word 
to Dora, and made the very strictest inquiries with 
regard to the practical joke to which Dora had 
been subjected. She first of all fully explained 
what had taken place in the presence of the whole 
school, and then each girl was called up in rotation, 
and asked two questions : first, had she done this 
mischievous thing herself.^ second, could she throw 
any light on the subject ? 

One by one each girl appeared before her 
teacher, replied in the negative to both queries, 
and returned to her seat. 

“Now, girls,” said Mrs. Willis, “you have each 
of you denied this charge. Such a thing as has 
happened to Dora could not have been done with- 
out hands. The teachers in the school are above 
suspicion ; the servants are none of them clever 
enough to perform this base trick. I suspect one 
of you, and I am quite determined to get at the 
truth. During the whole of this half-year there 
hr^s been a spirit of unhappiness, of mischief, and 
of suspicion in our midst. Under these circum- 
stances love cannot thrive ; under these circum- 
stances the true and ennobling sense of brotherly 
kindness, and all those feelings which real religion 
prompt must languish. I tell you all now plainly 
that I will not have this thing in Lavender House. 
It is simply disgraceful for one girl to play such 
tricks on her fellows. This is not the first time 


Mrs. Willises Decree. 


201 


nor the second time that the school desks have 
been tampered with. I will find out — I am de- 
termined to find out, who this dishonest person is ; 
and as she has not chosen to confess to me, as 
she has preferred falsehood to truth, I will visit 
her, when I do discover her, with my very gravest 
displeasure. In this school I have always endea- 
voured to inculcate the true principles of honour 
and of trust. I have laid down certain broad 
rules, and expect them to be obeyed ; but I have 
never hampered you with petty and humiliating 
restraints. I have given you a certain freedom, 
which I believed to be for your best good, and I 
have never suspected one of you until you have 
given me due cause. 

“Now, however, I tell you plainly that I alter 
all my tactics. One girl sitting in this room is 
guilty. For her sake I shall treat you all as guilty, 
and punish you accordingly. For the remainder 
of this term, or until the hour when the guilty 
girl chooses to release her companions, you are all, 
with the exception of the little children and Miss 
Russell, who can scarcely have played this trick on 
herself, under punishment. I withdraw your half- 
holidays — I take from you the use of the South 
Parlour for your acting, and every drawing-room 
in the playroom is confiscated. But this is not all 
that I do. In taking from you my trust, I must 
treat you as untrustworthy — you will no longer 
enjoy the liberty you used to delight in — every- 
where you will be watched. A teacher will sit in 
your playroom with you, a teacher will accompany 
you into the grounds, and I tell you plainly, girls, 
that chance words and phrases which drop from 


202 


A World of Girls. 


your lips shall be taken up, and used, if necessary, 
to the elucidation of this disgraceful mystery.” 

Here Mrs. Willis left the room, and the teachers 
desired the several girls in their classes to attend 
to their morning studies. 

Nothing could exceed the dismay which her 
words had produced. The innocent girls were 
fairly stunned, and from that hour for many a day 
all sunshine and happiness seemed really to have 
left Lavender House. 

The two, however, who felt the change most 
acutely, and on whose altered faces their companions 
began to fix suspicious eyes, were Annie Forest and 
Hester Thornton. Hester was burdened with an 
intolerable sense of the shameful falsehood she had 
told ; Annie, guilty in another matter, succumbed at 
last utterly to a sense of misery and injustice. Her 
orphaned and lonely position for the first time 
began to tell on her: she ate little and slept little 
her face grew very pale and thin, and her health 
really suffered. 

All the routine of happy life at Lavender House 
was changed. In the large playroom the drawing- 
rooms were unused ; there were no pleasant little 
knots of girls whispering happily and confidentially 
^ together, for whenever two or three girls sat down to 
have a chat they found that one or another of the 
teachers was within hearing. The acting for the 
coming play progressed so languidly that no one 
expected it would really take place, and the one 
relief and relaxation to the unhappy girls lay in the 
fact that the holidays were not far off, and that in 
the meantime they might work bard for the 
prizes. 


i 


An Unpleasant Discovery. 203 

The days passed in a truly melancholy fashion, 
and, perhaps, for the first time the girls fully 
appreciated the old privileges of freedom and trust 
which were now forfeited. There was a feeble little 
attempt at a joke and a laugh in the school at 
Dora’s expense. The most frivolous of the girls 
whispered of* Her as she passed as “the muddy 
stream;” but no one took up the fun with avidity 
— the shadow of somebody’s sin had fallen too 
heavily upon all the bright young lives. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

BETTY FALLS ILL AT AN AWKWARD TIME. 

The eight girls who had gone out on their midnight 
picnic were much startled one day by an unpleasant 
discovery. Betty had never come for her basket. 
Susan Drummond, who had a good deal of curiosity, 
and always poked her nose into unexpected corners, 
had been walking with a Miss Allison in that part of 
the grounds where the laurel-bush stood. She had 
caught a peep of the white handle of the basket, and 
had instantly turned her companion’s attention to 
something else. Miss Allison had not observed 
Susan’s start of dismay; but Susan had taken the 
first opportunity of getting rid of her, and had run off 
in search of one of the girls who had shared in the 
picnic. She came across Annie Forest, who was 
walking, as usual, by herself, with her head slightly 
bent, and her curling hair in sad confusion. Susan 
whispered the direful intelligence that old Betty had 
forsaken them, and that the basket, with its ginger 


A World of Girls. 


504 

beer bottles and its stained table-cloth, might be dis- 
covered at any moment. 

Annie’s pale face flushed slightly at Susan’s words, 

" Why should we try to conceal the thing ? ” she 
said, speaking with sudden energy, and a look of hope 
and animation coming back to her face. “ Susy, let’s 
go, all of us, and tell the miserable truth to Mrs. 
Willis ; it will be much the best way. We did not 
do the other thing, and when we have confessed about 
this our hearts will be at rest.” 

“No, we did not do the other thing,” said Susan, 
a queer grey colour coming over her face ; “ but con- 
fess about this, Annie Forest ! — I think you are mad. 
You dare not tell.” 

“ All right,” said Annie, “ I won’t, unless you all 
agree to it,” and then she continued her walk, leaving 
Susan standing on the gravelled path with her hands 
clasped together, and a look of most genuine alarm 
and dismay on her usually phlegmatic face. 

Susan quickly found Phyllis and Nora, and it was 
only too easy to arouse the fears of these timid little 
people. Their poor little faces became almost pallid, 
and they were not a little startled at the fact of Annie 
Forest, their own arch-conspirator, wishing to betray 
the^r secret. 

“ Oh,” said Susan Drummond, “ she’s not out and 
out shabby ; she says she won’t tell unless we all wish 
it. But what is to become of the basket ? ” 

“ Come, come, young ladies ; no whispering, if you 
please,” said Miss Good, who came up at this moment. 
“ Susan, you are looking pale and cold, walk up and 
‘down that path half-a-dozen times, and then go into 
the house. Phyllis and Nora, you can come with 
me as far as the lodge. 1 want to take a message 


About Old Bettv, 


20S 

from Mrs. Willis to Mary Martin about the fowl for 
to-morrow’s dinner.” 

Phyllis and Nora, with dismayed faces, walked 
solemnly away with the English teacher, and Susan 
was left to her solitary meditations. 

Things had come to such a pass that her slow wits 
were brought into play, and she neither felt sleepy, 
nor did she indulge in her usual habit of eating lolli- 
pops. 

That basket might be discovered any day, and 
then — then disgrace was imminent. Susan could not 
make out what had become of old Betty ; never 
before had she so utterly failed them. 

Betty lived in a little cottage about half a mile 
from Lavender House. She was a sturdy, apple- 
cheeked, little old woman, and had for many a day 
added to her income — indeed, almost supported her- 
self — by means of the girls at Lavender House. The 
large cherry-trees in her little garden bore their rich 
crop of fruit year after year for Mrs. Willises girls, and 
every day at an early hour Betty would tramp into 
Sefton and return with a temptingly-laden basket of 
the most approved cakes and tarts. There was a 
certain paling at one end of the grounds to which 
Betty used to come. Here on the grass she would sit 
contentedly, with the contents of her baskets arranged 
in the most tempting order before her, and to this 
seductive spot she knew well that those little Misses 
who loved goodies, cakes, and tartlets would be sure 
to find their way. Betty charged high for her wares ; 

, but, as she was always obliging in the matter of credit, 
the thoughtless girls cared very little that they paid 
double the shop prices for Betty’s cakes. The best 
girls in the school, certainly, never went to Betty; 


2o6 


A World of Girls. 


but Annie Forest, Susan Drummond, and several 
others had regular accounts with her, and few days 
passed that their young faces would not peep over the 
paling and their voices ask — 

“ What have you got to tempt me with to-day, 
Betty ? ” 

It was, however, in the matter of stolen picnics, 
of grand feasts in the old attic, &c. &c., that Betty 
was truly great. No one so clever as she in con- 
cealing a basket of delicious eatables, no one knew 
better what schoolgirls liked. She undoubtedly 
charged her own prices, but what she gave was of the 
best, and Betty was truly in her element when she had 
an order from the young ladies of Lavender House 
for a grand secret feast. 

“ You shall have it, my pretties — you shall have it,” 
she would say, wrinkling up her bright blue eyes, and 
smiling broadly. “ You leave it to Betty, my little 
loves ; you leave it to Betty.” 

On the occasion of the picnic to the fairies’ field 
Betty had, indeed, surpassed herself in the delicious 
eSEtables she had provided ; all had gone smoothly, the 
basket had been placed in a secure hiding-place under 
the thick laurel. It was to be fetched away by Betty 
herself at an early hour on the following morning. 

No wonder Susan was perplexed as she paced 
about and pretended to warm herself It was a June 
evening, but the weather was still a little cold. Susan 
remembered now that Betty had not come to her 
favourite station at the stile for several days. Was it 
" possible that the old woman was ill } As this idea 
occurred to her, Susan became more alarmed. She 
knew that there was very little chance of the basket 
remaining long in concealment. Rover might any 


A Visit to Betty, 


207 


day remember his pleasant picnic with affection, and 
drag the white basket from under the laurel-bush. 
Michael the gardener would be certain to see it when 
next he cleaned up the back avenue. Oh, it was more 
than dangerous to leave it there, and yet Susan knew 
of no better hiding-place. A sudden idea came to her ; 
she pulled out her pretty little watch, and saw that she 
need not return to the house for another half-hour. 
“ Suppose she ran as fast as possible to Betty^s little 
cottage, and begged of the old woman to come by the 
first light in the morning and fetch away the basket?” 

The moment Susan conceived this idea she 
resolved to put it into execution. She looked around 
her hastily : no teacher was in sight. Miss Good was 
away at the lodge, Miss Danesbury was playing with 
the little children. Mademoiselle, she knew, had gone 
indoors with a bad headache. She left the broad walk 
where she had been desired to stay, and, plunging into 
the shrubbery, soon reached Betty’s paling. In a 
moment she had climbed the bars, had jumped lightly 
into the field, and was running as fast as possible in 
the direction of Betty’s cottage. She reached the 
high road, and started and trembled violently as a 
carriage with some ladies and gentlemen passed her. 
She thought she recognised the faces of the two little 
Misses Bruce, but did not dare to look at them, and 
hurried panting along the road, and hoping she might 
be mistaken. 

In less than a quarter of an hour she had reached 
Betty’s little cottage, and was standing trying to 
recover her breath by the shut door. The place had 
a deserted look, and several overripe cherries had 
fallen from the trees and were lying neglected on the 
ground. Susan knocked impatiently. There was no 


2o8 


A World of Girls, 


discernible answer. She had no time to wait, she lifted 
the latch, which yielded to her pressure, and went in. 

Poor old Betty, crippled, and in severe pain with 
rheumatism, was lying on her little bed. 

“Eh, dear — and is that you, my pretty Missy?” 
she asked, as Susan, hot and tired, came up to her side. 

Oh, Betty, are you ill ? asked Miss Drummond. 
“ I came to tell you you have forgotten the basket.” 

“ No, my dear, no — not forgot. By no means that, 
lovey ; but I has been took with the rheumatism this 
past week, and can’t move hand nor foot. I was 
wondering how you’d do without your cakes and 
tartlets, dear, and to think of them cherries lying there 
good for nothing on the ground is enough to break 
one’s ’eart.” 

“ So it is,” said Susan, giving an appreciative 
glance towards the open door. “ They are beautiful 
cherries, and full of juice, I am sure. Fll take a few^ 
Betty, as I am going out, and pay you for them 
another day. But what I have come about now is 
the basket. You must get the basket away, however 
ill you are. If the basket is discovered we are all lost, 
and then good-bye to your gains.” 

“Well, Missy, dear, if I could crawl on my hands 
and knees I’d go and fetch it, rather than you should 
be worried ; but I can’t set foot to the ground at all. 
The doctor says as ’tis somethink like rheumatic fever 
as I has.” 

“ Oh, dear, oh, dear,” said Susan, not wasting any 
of her precious moments in pitying the poor suffering 
old woman. “ What is to be done ? I tell you, Betty^ 
if that basket is found we are all lost.” 

“ But the laurel is very thick, lovey ; it aint likely 
to be found — it aint, indeed.” 


Moses. 


209 


" I tell you it is likely to be found, you tiresome 
old woman, and you really must go for it or send for 
it. You really must." 

Old Betty began to ponder. 

“ There’s Moses," she said, after a pause of anxious 
thought ; ‘'he's a ’cute little chap and he might go. 
He lives in the fourth cottage along the lane. Moses 
is his name — Moses Moore. I’d give him a pint of 
cherries for the job. If you wouldn’t mind sending 
Moses to me. Miss Susan, why. I’ll do my best ; only it 
seems a pity to let anybody into your secrets, young 
ladies, but old Betty herself." 

“ It is a pity," said Susan ; “ but, under the circum- 
stances, it can’t be helped. What cottage did you say 
this Moses lived in ?" 

“ The fourth from here, down the lane, lovey — 
Moses is the lad’s name; he a freckled boy, 
with a cast in one eye. You send him up to me, 
dearie; but don’t mention the cherries, or he’ll be after 
stealing them. He’s a sad rogue, is Moses; but I 
think I can tempt him with the cherries." 

Susan did not wait to bid poor old Betty “ good- 
bye," but ran out of the cottage, shuttingthe doorafter 
her, and snatching up two or three ripe cherries to eat 
on her way. She was so far fortunate as to find the 
redoubtable Moses at home, and to convey him bodily 
to old Betty’s presence. The queer boy grinned 
horribly, and looked as wicked as boy could look ; but 
on the subject of cherries he was undoubtedly suscep- 
tible, and after a good deal of haggling and insisting 
that the pint should be a quart, he expressed his 
willingness to start off at four o’clock on the following 
morning, and bring away the basket from under the 
laurel-tree. 

N 


210 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

“YOU ARE WELCOME TO TELL. 

Annie continued her walk. The circumstances of 
the last two months had combined to do for her what 
nothing had hitherto effected. When a little child 
she had known hardship and privation, she had passed 
through that experience which is metaphorically 
spoken of as “going down hill.” As a baby little 
Annie had been surrounded by comforts and luxuries, 
and her father and mother had lived in a large house, 
and kept a carriage, and Annie had two nurses to 
wait on herself alone. These were in the days before 
she could remember anything. With her first early 
memories came the recollection of a much smaller 
house, of much fewer servants, of her mother often in 
tears, and her father often away. Then there was no 
house at all that the Forests could call their own, only 
rooms of a tolerably cheerful character — and Annie’s 
nurse went away, and she took her daily walks by her 
mother’s side and slept in a little cot in her mother’s 
room. Then came a very, very sad day, when her 
mother lay cold and still and fainting on her bed, and 
her tall and handsome father caught Annie in his arms 
and pressed her to his heart, and told her to be a good 
child and to keep up her spirits, and, above all things, 
to take care of mother. Then her father had gone 
away ; and though Annie expected him back, he did 
not come, and she and her mother went into poorer 
and shabbier lodgings, and her mother began to try 
her tear-dimmed eyes by working at church embroidery, 


2II 


'*/ Cannot Repay her!* 

and Annie used to notice that she coughed a good 
deal as she worked. Then there was another move, 
and this time Mrs. Forest and her little daughter found 
themselves in one bedroom, and things began to grow 
very gloomy, and food even was scarce. At last there 
was a change. One day a lady came into the dingy 
little room, and all on a sudden it seemed as if the sun 
had come out again. This lady brought comforts with 
her — toys and books for the child, good, brave words 
of cheer for the mother. At last, Annie’s mother died, 
and she went away to Lavender House to live with 
this good friend who had made her mother’s dying 
hours easy. 

“ Annie, Annie,” said the dying mother, “ I ow£ 
everything to Mrs. Willis ; we knew each other long 
ago when we were girls, and she has come to me now 
and made everything easy. When I am gone she 
will take care of you. Oh, my child, I cannot repay 
her ; but will you try .? ” 

“ Yes, mother,” said little Annie, gazing full into 
her mother’s face with her sweet bright eyes, “ Fll 
— I’ll love her, mother ; I’ll give her lots and lots of 
love.” 

Annie had gone to Lavender House, and kept her 
word, for she had almost worshipped the good 
mistress who was so true and kind to her, and who 
had so befriended her mother. Through all the 
vicissitudes of her short existence Annie had, how- 
ever, never lost one precious gift. Hers was an 
affectionate, but also a wonderfully bright, nature. 
It was as impossible for Annie to turn away from 
laughter and merriment as it would be for a flower 
to keep its head determinately turned from the sun. 
In their darkest days Annie had managed to make 


212 


A World of Girls. 


her mother laugh ; her little face was a sunbeam, her 
very naughtinesses were of a laughable character. 

Her mother died — her father was still away, but 
Annie retained her brave and cheerful spirit, for she 
gave and received love. Mrs. Willis loved her — she 
bestowed upon her amongst all her girls the tenderest 
glances, the most motherly caresses. The teachers un- 
doubtedly corrected and even scolded her, but they 
could not help liking her, and even her worst scrapes 
made them smile. Annie’s companions adored her ; 
the little children would do anything for their own 
Annie, and even the servants in the school said that 
there was no young lady in Lavender House fit to 
hold a candle to Miss Forest. 

During the last half-year, however, things had 
been different. Suspicion and mistrust began to dog 
the footsteps of the bright young girl ; she was no 
longer a universal favourite — some of the girls even 
openly expressed their dislike of her. 

All this Annie could have borne, but for the fact 
that Mrs. Willis joined in the universal suspicion. The 
old glance now never came to her eyes, nor the old 
tone to her voice. For the first time Annie’s spirits 
utterly flagged ; she could not bear this universal 
coldness, this universal chill. She began to droop 
physically as well as mentally. 

She was pacing up and down the walk, thinking 
very sadly, wondering vaguely if her father would ever 
return, and conscious of a feeling of more or less 
indifference to everything and every one, when she 
was suddenly roused from her meditation by the 
patter of small feet and by a very eager little ex- 
clamation — 

“ Me tumming — me tumming, Annie 1 ” and then 


Delicious Comfort. 


2r3 

Nan raised her charming face and placed her cool 
baby hand jn Annie’s. 

There was delicious comfort in the clasp of the 
little hand, and in the look of love and pleasure which 
lit up the small face. 

“Me yiding from naughty nurse — me ’tay with 
you, Annie — me love ’oo, Annie.” 

Annie stooped down, kissed the little one, and 
lifted her into her arms. 

“ Why ky ? ” said Nan, who saw with consternation 
two big tears in Annie’s eyes ; “ dere, poor ickle 
Annie — me love ’oo — me buy ’oo a new doll.” 

“ Dearest little darling,” said Annie in a voice of 
almost passionate pain ; then, with that wonderful in- 
stinct which made her in touch with all little children, 
she cheered up, wiped away her tears, and allowed 
laughter once more to wreathe her lips and fill her 
eyes. “ Come, Nan,” she said, “you and I will have 
such a race.” 

She placed the child on her shoulder, clasped the 
little hands securely round her neck, and ran to the 
sound of Nan^s shouts down the shady walk. 

At the farther end Nan suddenly tightened her 
clasp, drew herself up, ceased to laugh, and said with 
some fright in her voice — 

“Who dat?” 

Annie, too, stood still with a sudden start, for the 
gipsy woman. Mother Rachel, was standing directly 
in their path. 

“ Go ’way, naughty woman,” said Nan, shaking her 
small hand imperiously. 

The gipsy dropped a low curtsey, and spoke in a 
slightly mocking tone. 

“ A pretty little dear,” she said. ** Yes, truly now, 


214 


A World of Girls. 


a pretty little winsome dear ; and oh, what shoes ! 
and little open-work socks ! and I don’t doubt real lace 
trimming on all her little garments — I don’t doubt it 
a bit” 

“Go ’way — me don’t like ’oo,” said Nan. “Let’s 
wun back — gee, gee,” she said, addressing Annie, 
whom she had constituted into a horse for the time 
being. 

“Yes, Nan; in one minute,” said Annie. “Please, 
Mother Rachel, what are you doing here ?” 

“ Only waitmg to see you, pretty Missie,” replied 
the tall gipsy. “ You are the dear little lady who 
crossed my hand with silver that night in the wood. 
Eh, but it was a bonny night, with a bonny bright 
moon, and none of the dear little ladies meant any 
harm — no, no. Mother Rachel knows that.” 

“ Look here,” said Annie, “ I’m not going to be 
afraid of ys>u. I have no more silver to give you. If 
you like, you may go up to the house and tell what you 
have seen. I am very unhappy, and whether you tell 
or not can make very little difference to me now. 
Good-night ; I am not the least afraid of you — you can 
do just as you please about telling Mrs. Willis.” 

“ Eh, my dear ? ” said the gipsy ; “ do you think 
Pd work you any harm — you, and the seven other 
dear little ladies ? No, not for the world, my dear — 
not for the world. You don’t know Mother Rachel 
when you think she’d be that mean.” 

“Well, don’t come here again,” said Annie. 
“ Good-night.” 

She turned on her heel, and Nan shouted back — 

“Go ’way, naughty woman — Nan don’t love ’oo, 
’tall, ’tall.” 

The gipsy stood still for a moment with a frown 


Mother Rachel's Soliloquy. 215 

knitting her brows ; then she slowly turned, and, 
creeping on all-fours through the underwood, climbed 
the hedge into the field beyond. 

“ Oh, no,” she laughed, after a moment ; “ the little 
Missy thinks she aint afraid of me ; but she be. Trust 
Mother Rachel for knowing that much. I make no 
doubt,” she added after a pause, “ that the little one’s 
clothes are trimmed with real lace. Well, little 
Missie Annie Forest, I can see with half an eye that 
you set store by that baby-girl. You had better not 
cross Mother Rachel’s whims, or she can punish you 
in a way you don’t think of.” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

HOW MOSES MOORE KEPT HIS APPOINTMENT. 

Susan Drummond got back to Lavender House 
without apparent discovery. She was certainly late 
when she took her place in the class-room for her next 
day’s preparation ; but, beyond a very sharp repri- 
mand from Mademoiselle, no notice was taken of this 
fact. She managed to whisper to Nora and Phyllis 
that the basket would be moved by the first dawn the 
next morning, and the little girls went to bed happier 
in consequence. Nothing ever could disturb Susan’s 
slumbers, and that night she certainly slept without 
rocking. As she was getting into bed she ventured 
to tell Annie how successfully she had manoeuvred ; 
but Annie received her news with the most absolute 
indifference, looking at her for a moment with a queer 
smile, and then saying — 

“ My own wish is that this should be found out. 


2t6 


A World of Girls. 


As a matter of course, I sha’n’t betray you, girls ; but 
as things now stand I am anxious that Mrs. Willis 
should know the very worst of me.” 

After a remark which Susan considered so simply 
idiotic, there was, of course, no further conversation 
between the two girls. 

Moses Moore had certainly promised Betty to rise 
soon after dawn on the following morning and go to 
Lavender House to carry off the basket from under 
the laurel-tree. Moses, a remarkably indolent lad, 
had been stimulated by the thought of the delicious 
cherries which would be his as soon as he brought the 
basket to Betty. He had cleverly stipulated that a 
quart — not a pint — of cherries was to be his reward, 
and he looked forward with considerable pleasure to 
picking them himself, and putting a few extra ones 
into his mouth on the sly. 

Moses was not at all the kind of boy who would 
have scrupled to steal a few cherries ; but in this 
particular old Betty, ill as she was, was too sharp for 
him, or for any of the other village lads. Her bed was 
drawn up close to her little window, and her window 
looked directly on to the two cherry trees. Never, to 
all appearance, did Betty close her eyes. However 
early the hour might be in which a village boy peeped 
over the wall of her garden, he always saw her white 
night-cap moving, and he knew that her bright blue 
eyes would be on him, and he would be proclaimed a 
thief all over the place before many minutes were 
over. 

Moses, therefore, was very glad to secure his 
cherries by fair means, as he could not obtain them 
by foul ; and he went to bed and to sleep determined 
to be off on his errand with the dawn. 


Moses Lingers. 


217 


A very natural thing, however, happened. Moses, 
unaccustomed to getting up at half-past three in the 
morning, never opened his eyes until the church clock 
struck five. Then he started upright, rubbed and 
rubbed at his sleepy orbs, tumbled into his clothes, 
and, softly opening the cottage door, set off on his 
errand. 

The fact of his being nearly an hour and a half 
late did not trouble him in the least. In any case, he 
would get to Lavender House before six o’clock, and 
would have consumed his cherries in less than an 
hour from that date. 

Moses sauntered gaily along the roads, whistling 
as he went, and occasionally tossing his battered cap 
in the air. He often lingered on his way, now to cut 
down a particularly tempting switch from the hedge, 
now to hunt for a possible bird’s nest. It was very 
nearly six o’clock when he reached the back avenue, 
swung himself over the gate, which was locked, and 
ran softly on the dewy grass in the direction of the 
laurel bush. Old Betty had given him most careful 
instructions, and he was far too sharp a lad to forget 
what was necessary for the obtaining of a quart of 
cherries. He found his tree, and lay flat down on the 
ground in order to pull out the basket. His fingers 
had just clasped the handle when there came a sudden 
interruption — a rush, a growl, and some very sharp 
teeth had inserted themselves into the back of his 
ragged jacket. Poor Moses found himself, to his 
horror, in the clutches of ^ great mastiff. The creature 
held him tight, and laid one heavy paw on him to 
prevent him rising. 

Under these circumstances, Moses thought it quite 
unnecessary to retain any self-control. He shrieked, 


2I8 


A World of Girls, 


he screamed, he wriggled ; his piercing yells filled the 
air, and, fortunately for him, his being two hours too 
late brought assistance to his aid. Michael, the 
gardener, and a strong boy who helped him, rushed to 
the spot, and liberated the terrified lad, who, after all, 
was only frightened, for Rover had satisfied himself 
with tearing his jacket to pieces, not himself. 

“ Give me the b-basket,” sobbed Moses, “ and 
let me g-g-go.” 

“You may certainly go, you little tramp,” said 
Michael, “but Jim and me will keep the basket. I 
much misdoubt me if there isn’t mischief here. What’s 
the basket put hiding here for, and who does it belong 
to?” 

“ Old B-B-Betty,” gasped forth the agitated Moses. 

“ Well, let old Betty fetch it herself. Mrs. Willis 
will keep it for her,” said Michael. “ Come along, 
Jim, get to your weeding, do. There, little scamp, 
you had better make yourself scarce.” 

Moses certainly took his advice, for he scuttled 
off like a hare. Whether he ever got his cherries oi 
not, history does not disclose. 

Michael, looking gravely at Jim, opened the basket, 
examined its contents, and, shaking his head solemnly, 
carried it into the house. 

“There’s been deep work going on, Jim, and my 
Missis ought to know,” said Michael, who was an ex- 
ceedingly strict disciplinarian. Jim, however, had 
a soft corner in his heart for the young ladies, and 
he commenced bi3 weeding with a profound sigh. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A BROKEN TRUST. 

The next morning Annie Forest opened her eyes 
with that strange feeling of indifference and want of 
vivacity which come so seldbm to youth. She saw 
the sun shining through the closed blinds ; she heard 
the birds twittering and singing in the large elm-tree 
which nearly touched the windows ; she knew well 
how the world looked at this moment, for often and 
often in her old light-hearted days she had risen 
before the maid came to call her, and, kneeling by the 
deep window-ledge, had looked out at the bright^ 
fresh, sparkling day. A new day, with all its hours 
before it, its light vivid but not too glaring, its dress 
all manner of tender shades and harmonious colourings! 
'Annie had a poetical nature, and she gloried in these 
glimpses which she got all by herself of the fresh, glad 
world. 

To-day, however, she lay still, sorry to know that 
the brief night was at an end, and that the day, with 
its coldness and suspicion, its terrible absence of love 
and harmony, was about to begin. 

Annie’s nature was very emotional ; she was 
intensely sensitive to her surroundings ; the greyness 
of her present life was absolute destruction to such a 
nature as hers. 

The dressing-bell rang ; the maid came in to draw 
up the blinds, and call the girls. Annie rose languidly, 
and began to dress herself. 

She first finished her toilet, and then approached 


220 


A World of Girls. 


her little bed, and stood by its side for a moment 
hesitating. She did not want to pray, and yet she 
felt impelled to go down on her knees. As she knelt, 
with her curls falling about her face, and her hands 
pressed to her eyes, one line of one of her favourite 
poems came flashing with swiftness and power across 
her memory — 

“ A soul which has sinned and is pardoned again.” 

The words filled her whole heart with a sudden 
sense of peace and of great longing. 

The prayer-bell rang : she rose, and, turning to 
Susan Drummond, said earnestly — 

“Oh, Susy, I do wish Mrs. Willis could know 
about our going to the fairy-field ; I do so want God 
to forgive me.” 

Susan stared in her usual dull, uncomprehending 
way ; then she flushed a little, and said brusquely — 

“ I think you have quite taken leave of your senses, 
Annie Forest.” 

Annie said no more, but at prayers in the chapel 
she was glad to find herself near gentle Cecil Temple, 
and the words kept repeating themselves to her all 
during the morning lessons — 

“ A soul which has sinned and is pardoned again.” 

Just before morning school, several of the girls 
started and looked distressed when they found that 
Mrs. Willis lingered in the room. She stood for a 
moment by the English teacher’s desk, said something 
to her in a low voice, and then, walking slowly to her 
own post at the head of the great school-room, she 
said suddenly — 

“ I want to ask you a question. Miss Drummond. 
Will you please just stand up in your place in 


The Picnic Basket, 


221 


class and answer me without a mementos hesita- 
tion?” 

Phyllis and Nora found themselves turning very 
pale ; Mary Price and one or two more of the rebels 
also began to tremble, but Susan looked dogged and 
indifferent enough as she turned her eyes towards her 
teacher. 

“Yes, madam,” she said, rising and dropping a 
curtsey. 

“ My friends, the Misses Bruce, came to call on me 
yesterday evening, Susan, and told me that they saw 
you running very quickly on the high road in the 
direction of the village. You, of course, know that 
you broke a very distinct rule when you left the 
grounds without leave. Tell me at once where you 
were going.” 

Susan hesitated, coloured to her dullest red, and 
looked down. Then, because she had no ready 
excuse to offer, she blurted out the truth — 

“ I was going to see old Betty.” 

“ The cake- woman ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ What for ? ” ' 

“ I — I heard she was ill.” 

“ Indeed — you may sit down. Miss Drummond. 
Miss Good, will you ask Michael to step for a moment 
into the schoolroom ? ” 

Several of the girls now indeed held their breath, 
and more than one heart beat with heavy, frightened 
bumps as a moment later Michael followed Miss 
Good into the room, carrying the redoubtable picnic- 
basket on his arm. 

“ Michael,” said Mrs. Willis, “ I wish you to tell 
the young ladies exactly how you found the basket 


'121 A World of Girls. 

this morning. Stand by my side, please, and speak 
loud enough for them to hear.” 

After a moment’s pause Michael related some- 
what diffusely and with an occasional break in his 
narrative the scene which had occurred between him 
and Moses that morning. 

“ That will do, Michael ; you can now go/’ said 
the head-mistress. 

She waited until the old servant had closed the 
door, and then she turned to her girls— 

“ It is not quite a fortnight since I stood where 
I now stand, and asked one girl to be honourable 
and to save her companions. One girl was guilty 
of sin and would not confess, and for her sake all 
her companions are now suffering. I am tired of 
this sort of thing — I am tired of standing in this 
place and appealing to your honour, which is dead, 
to your truth, which is nowhere. Girls, you puzzle 
me — you half break my heart. In this case more 
than one is guilty. How many of the girls in 
Lavender House are going to tell me a lie this 
morning } ” 

There was a very brief pause ; then a slight cry, 
and a girl rose from her seat and walked up the long 
schoolroom. 

" I am the most guilty of all,” said Annie Forest. 

“ Annie ! ” said Mrs. Willis, in a tone half of pain, 
half of relief, “ have you come to your senses at last ? ” 

“ Oh, I’m so glad to be able to speak the truth,” 
said Annie. “ Please punish me very, very hard ; I 
am the most guilty of all.” 

“ What did you do with this basket ? ” 

“We took it for a picnic — it was my plan, I led 
the others.” 


"/ Trusted my GirlsI 


223 


** Where was your picnic ? ” 

"In the fairies’ field.” 

" Ah ! At what time ? ” 

" At night — in the middle of the night — the night 
you went to London.” 

Mrs. Willis put her hand to her brow; her face 
was very white and the girls could see that she 
trembled. 

" I trusted my girls ” she said ; then she broke 

off abruptly. 

“You had companions in this wickedness — name 
them.” 

“ Yes, I had companions ; I led them on,” 

“ Name them, Miss Forest.” 

For the first time Annie raised her eyes to Mrs. 
Willis’s face ; then she turned and looked down the 
long schoolroom. 

“ Oh, won’t they tell themselves } ” she said. 

Nothing could be more appealing than her glance. 
It melted the hearts of Phyllis and Nora, who began 
to sob, and to declare brokenly that they had gone 
too, and that they were very, very sorry. 

Spurred by their example Mary Price also con- 
fessed, and one by one all the little conspirators re- 
vealed the truth, with the exception of Susan, who 
kept her eyes steadily fixed on the floor. 

“ Susan Drummond,” said Mrs. Willis, “ come 
here.^^ 

There was something in her tone which startled 
every girl in the school. Never had they heard this 
ring in their teacher’s voice before. 

"Susan,” said Mrs. Willis, “I don’t ask you if 
you are guilty ; I fear, poor miserable girl, that if I 
did you would load your conscience with a fresh 


224 


A World of Girls. 


lie. I don’t ask you if you are guilty because I 
know you are. The fact of your running without 
leave to see old Betty is circumstantial evidence. 
I judge you by that and pronounce you guilty. 
Now, young ladies, you who have treated me so 
badly, who have betrayed my trust, who have been 
wanting in honour, I must think, I must ask God 
to teach me how to deal with you. In the meantime, 
you cannot associate with your companions. Miss 
Good, will you take each of these eight girls to their 
bedrooms.” 

As Annie was leaving the room she looked full 
into Mrs. Willises face. Strange to say, at this 
moment of her great disgrace the cloud which had 
so long brooded over her was lifted. The sweet eyes 
never looked sweeter. The old Annie, and yet a 
better and a braver Annie than had ever existed 
before, followed her companions out of the school- 
room. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

IS SHE STILL GUILTY.? 

On the evening of that day Cecil Temple knocked at 
the door of Mrs. Willis’s private sitting-room. 

“ Ah, Cecil ! is that you } ” said her governess. 
“ I am always glad to see you, dear ; but I happen to 
be particularly busy to-night. Have you anything 
in particular to say to me .? ” , 

“ I only wanted to talk about Annie, Mrs. Willis. 
You believe in her at last, don’t you ? ” 

Believe in her at last ! ” said the head-mistress in 







Consider what She Djd,^* 525 

a tone of astonishment and deep pain. ** No, Cecil, 
my dear ; you ask too much of my faith. I do not 
believe in Annie.” 

Cecil paused ; she hesitated, and seemed half 
afraid to proceed. 

“Perhaps,” she said at last in a slightly timid 
tone, “ you have not seen her since this morning ? ” 

“ No ; I have been particularly busy. Besides, 
the eight culprits are under punishment ; part of 
their punishment is that I will not see them.” 

“ Don’t you think, Mrs. Willis,” said Cecil, “ that 
Annie made rather a brave confession this morn- 
ing ? ” 

“ I admit, my dear, that Annie spoke in somewhat 
of her old impulsive way ; she blamed herself, and 
did not try to screen her misdemeanours behind her 
companions. In this one particular she reminded me 
of the old Annie who, notwithstanding all her faults, 
I used to trust and love. But as to her confession 
being very brave, my dear Cecil, you must remember 
that she did not confess until she was obliged ; she 
knew, and so did all the other girls, that I could have 
got the truth out of old Betty had they chosen to 
keep their lips sealed. Then, my dear, consider 
what she did. On the very night that I was away she 
violated the trust I had in her — she bade me ‘ good- 
bye ’ with smiles and sweet glances, and then she did 
this in my absence. No, Cecil, I fear poor Annie is 
not what we thought her. She has done untold 
mischief during the half-year, and has wilfully lied 
and deceived me. I find, on comparing dates, that it 
was on the very night of the girls’ pic-nic that Dora’s 
theme was changed. There is no doubt whatever 
that Annie was the guilty person. I did my best 
O 


226 


A World of Girls. 


to believe in her, and to depend on Mr. Everard’s 
judgment of her character, but I confess I can do so 
no longer. Cecil, dear, I am not surprised that you 
look pale and sad. No, we will not give up this poor 
Annie : we will try to love her even through her sin. 
Ah ! poor child, poor child ! how much I have prayed 
for her ! She was to me as a child of my own. Now, 
dear Cecil, I must ask you to leave me.” 

Cecil went slowly out of her governess’s presence, 
and, wandering across the wide stone hall, she 
entered the playroom. It happened to be a wet 
night, and the room was full of girls, who hung 
together in groups and whispered softly. There 
were no loud voices, and, except from the little ones, 
there was no laughter. A great depression hung 
over the place, and few could have recognised the 
happy girls of Lavender House in these sad young 
faces. Cecil walked slowly into the room, and 
presently finding Hester Thornton, she sat down by 
her side. 

“ I can’t get Mrs. Willis to see it,” she said very 
sadly. 

“ What } asked Hester. 

“ Why, that we have got our old Annie back 
again ; that she did take the girls out to that pic-nic, 
and was as wild, and reckless, and naughty as 
possible about it ; and then, just like the old Annie I 
have always known, the moment the fun was over 
she began to repent, and that she has gone on re- 
penting ever since, which has accounted for her poor 
sad little face and white cheeks. Of course she 
longed to tell — Nora and Phyllis have told me so — 
but she would not betray them. Now at last there is 
a load off her heart, and, though she is in great 


Cecil and Hester. 


227 


disgrace and punishment, she is not very unhappy. 

I went to see her an hour ago, and I saw in her face 
that my own darling Annie has returned. But what 
do you think Mrs. Willis does, Hester ? She is so 
hurt and disappointed, that she believes Annie is 
guilty of the other thing — she believes that Annie 
stole Dora’s theme, and that she caricatured her in 
my book some time ago. She believes it — she is sure 
of it. Now, do you think, Hester, that Annie’s face 
would look quite peaceful and happy to-night if she 
had only confessed half her faults — if she had this 
meanness, this sin, these lies still resting on her soul ? 
Oh ! I wish Mrs. Willis would see her ! I wish — I 
wish ! but I can do nothing. Y ou agree with me, 
don’t you, Hester? Just put yourself in Annie’s 
place, and tell me if j/ou would feel happy, and if 
your heart would be at rest, if you had only confessed 
half your sin, and if through you all your school- 
fellows were under disgrace and suspicion ? You 
could not, could you, Hester ? Why, Hester, how 
white you are ! ” 

“ You are so metaphysical,” said Hester, rising ; 
“ you quite puzzle me. How can I put myself in your 
friend Annie’s place? I never understood her — I 
never wanted to. Put myself in her place — no, 
certainly that I’m never likely to. I hope that I shall 
never be in such a predicament.” 

Hester walked away, and Cecil sat still in great 
perplexity. 

Cecil was a girl with a true sense of religion. The 
love of God guided every action of her simple and 
straightforward life. She was neither beautiful nor 
clever ; but no one in the school was more respected 
and honoured, no one more sincerely loved. Cegil 

09 


228 


A Wo£LD OF Girls, 


knew what the peace of God meant, and when she 
saw even a shadowy reflection of that peace on 
Annie’s little face, she was right in believing that she 
must be innocent of the guilt which was attributed 
to her. 

The whole school assembled for prayers that 
night in the little chapel, and Mr. Everard, who had 
heard the story of that day’s confession from Mrs. 
Willis, said a few words appropriate to the occasion 
to the unhappy young girls. 

Whatever effect his words had on the others, and 
they were very simple and straightforward, Annie’s 
face grew quiet and peaceful as she listened to them. 
The old clergyman assured the girls that God was 
waiting to forgive those who truly repented, and that 
the way to repent was to rise up and sin no more. 

“ The present fun is not worth the after-pain,” he 
said, in conclusion. “ It is an old saying that stolen 
waters are sweet, but only at the time ; afterwards 
only those who drink of them know the full extent of 
their bitterness.” 

This little address from Mr. Everard strengthened 
poor Annie for an ordeal which was immediately 
before her, for Mrs. Willis asked all the school to 
follow her to the playroom, and there she told them 
that she was about to restore to them their lost 
privileges ; that circumstances, in her opinion, now so 
strongly pointed the guilt of the stolen essay in the 
direction of one girl, that she could no longer ask the 
school to suffer for her sake. 

“She still refuses to confess her sin,” said Mrs- 
Willis, “but, unless another girl proclaims herself 
guilty, and proves to me beyond doubt that she drew 
the caricature which was found in Cecil Temple’s book, 


Remoj?se, 


229 


and that she changed Dora Russell’s essay, and, 
imitating her hand, put another in its place, I pro- 
claim the guilty person to be Annie Forest, and on 
her alone I visit my displeasure. You can retire to 
your rooms, young ladies. To-morrow morning 
Lavender House resumes its old cheerfulness.” 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

HESTER’S HOUR OF TRIAL. 

However calmly or however peacefully Annie slept 
that night, poor Hester did not close her eyes. The 
white face of the girl she had wronged and injured 
kept rising before her. Why had she so deceived 
Annie ? Why from the very first had she turned from 
her, and misjudged her, and misrepresented her.? 
Was Annie, indeed, all bad .? Hester had to own to 
herself that to-night Annie was better than she — was 
greater than she. Could she now have undone the 
past, she would not have acted as she had done ; she 
would not for the sake of a little paltry revenge have 
defiled her conscience with a lie, have told her 
governess that she could throw no light on the 
circumstance of the stolen essay. This was the first 
lie Hester had ever told ; she was naturally both 
straightforward and honourable, but her sin of sins, 
that which made her hard and almost unlovable, was 
an intensely proud and haughty spirit. She was very 
sorry she had told that lie, she was very sorry she had 
yielded to that temptation ; but not for worlds would 
she now humble herself to confess — not for worlds 
would she let the school knpw of her cowardice and 


230 


A World of Girls. 


shame. No, if there was no other means of clearing 
Annie except through her confession, she must remain 
with the shadow of this sin over her to her dying 
day. 

Hester, however, was now really unhappy, and 
also truly sorry for poor Annie. Could she have got 
off without disgrace or punishment, she would have 
been truly glad to see Annie exonerated. She was 
quite certain that Susan Drummond was at the bot- 
tom of all the mischief which had been done lately 
at Lavender House. She could not make out how 
stupid Susan was clever enough to caricature and to 
imitate peoples’ hands. Still she was convinced that 
she was the guilty person, and she wondered and 
wondered if she could induce Susan to come forward 
and confess the truth, and so save Annie without 
bringing her, Hester, into any trouble. 

She resolved to speak to Susan, and without con- 
fessing that she had been in the schoolroom on the 
night the essay was changed, to let her know plainly 
that she suspected her. 

She became much calmer when she determined to 
carry out this resolve, and towards morning she fell 
asleep. 

She was awakened at a very early hour by little 
Nan clambering over the side of her crib, and cuddling 
down cosily in a way she loved by Hester’s side. 

“ Me so ’nug, ’nug,” said little Nan. “ Oh, Hetty, 
Hetty, there’s a wy on the teiling ! ” 

Hester had then to rouse herself, and enter into an 
animated conversation on the subject of flies generally, 
and in especial she had to talk of that particular fly 
which would perambulate on the ceiling over Nan’s 

head* 


v ■: ■ r ■* ' r"' ’’v '7 ' T^/.r «“■ 


Annie in School, 231 

“ Me like wies,” said Nan, “ and me like ’00, Hetty, 
and me love — me love Annie.” 

Hester kissed her little sister passionately ; but 
this last observation, accompanied by the expression 
of almost angelic devotion which filled little Nan’s 
brown eyes, as she repeated that she liked flies and 
Hetty, but that she loved Annie, had the effect of 
again hardening her heart. 

Hester’s hour of trial, however, was at hand, and 
before that day was over she was to experience that 
awful emptiness and desolation which those know 
whom God is punishing. 

Lessons went on as usual at Lavender House that 
morning, and, to the surprise of several, Annie was 
seen in her old place in class. She worked with a 
steadiness quite new to her ; no longer interlarding 
her hours of study with those indescribable glances of 
fun and mischief, first at one school-companion and 
then at another, which used to worry her teachers so 
much. 

There were no merry glances from Annie that 
morning ; but she worked steadily and rapidly, and 
went through that trying ordeal, her French verbs, 
with such satisfaction that Mademoiselle was on the 
point of praising her, until she remembered that Annie 
was in disgrace. 

After school, however, Annie did not join her 
companions in the grounds, but went up to her 
bedroom, where, by Mrs. Willis’s orders, she was to 
remain until the girls went in. She was to take her 
own exercise later in the day. 

It was now the tenth of June — an intensely sultry 
day ; a misty heat brooded over everything, and not a 
breath of air stirred the leaves in the trees. The girls 


2^2 


A World of Girls, 


wandered about languidly, too enervated by the heat 
to care to join in any noisy games. They were now 
restored to their full freedom, and there is no doubt 
they enjoyed the privileges of having little confabs, 
and whispering secrets to each other without having 
Miss Good and Miss Danesbury for ever at their 
elbows. They talked of many things — of the near 
approach of the holidays, of the prize day which was 
now so close at hand, of Annie’s disgrace, and so on. 

They wondered, many of them, if Annie would 
ever be brought to confess her sin, and, if not, how 
Mrs. Willis would act towards her. Dora Russell 
said in her most contemptuous tones — 

“ She is nothing, after all, but a charity child, and 
Mrs. Willis has supported her for years for nothing.” 

“Yes, and she’s too clever by half ; eh, poor old 
Muddy Stream } ■” remarked a saucy little girl. “ By 
the way, Dora, dear, how goes the river now ? — has it 
lost itself in the arms of mother ocean yet ? ” 

Dora turned red and walked away, and her young 
tormentor exclaimed with considerable gusto — 

“ There, I have silenced her for a bit ; I do hate 
the way she talks about charity children. Whatever 
her faults, Annie is the sweetest and prettiest girl in 
the school, in my opinion.” 

In the meantime Hester was looking in all direc- 
tions for Susan Drummond. She thought the present 
a very fitting opportunity to open her attack on her, 
and she was the more anxious to bring her to reason 
as a certain look in Annie’s face — a pallid and very 
weary look — had gone to her heart, and touched her 
in spite of herself. Now, even though little Nan 
loved her, Hester would save Annie could she do so 
not at her own expense. 


In the Hammock, 


233 


Loolc, however, as she would, nowhere could she 
find Miss Drummond. She called and called, but no 
sleepy voice replied. Susan, indeed, knew better ; 
she had curled herself up in a hammock which hung 
between the boughs of a shady tree, and though 
Hester passed under her very head, she was sucking 
lollipops and going off comfortably into the land of 
dreams, and had no intention of replying. Hester 
wandered down the shady walk, and at its farther end 
she was gratified by the sight of little Nan, who, 
under her nurse’s charge, was trying to string daisies 
on the grass. Hester sat down by her side, and Nan 
climbed over and made fine havoc of her neat print 
dress, and laughed, and was at her merriest and best. 

“ I hear say that that naughty Miss Forest has 
done something out-and-out disgraceful,” whispered 
the nurse. 

" Oh, don’t ! ” said Hester impatiently. " Why 
should every one throw mud at a girl when she is 
down ? If poor Annie is naughty and guilty, she is 
suffering now.” 

“ Annie not naughty,” said little Nan. “ Me love 
my own Annie ; me do, me do.” 

“ And you love your own poor old nurse, too ? ” re- 
sponded the somewhat jealous nurse. 

Hester left the two playing happily together, the 
little one caressing her nurse, and blowing one or two 
kisses after her sister’s retreating form. Hester re- 
turned to the house, and went up to her room to 
prepare for dinner. She had washed her hands, and 
was standing before the looking-glass re-plaiting her 
long hair, when Susan Drummond, looking extremely 
wild and excited, and with her eyes almost starting 
out of her head, rushed into the room. 


234 


A World of Girls. 


** Oh, Hester, Hester ! ” she gasped, and she flung 
herself on Hester’s bed, with her face downwards ; 
she seemed absolutely deprived for the moment of 
the power of any further speech. 

“What is the matter, Susan inquired Hester 
half impatiently. “What have you come into my 
room for } Are you going into a fit of hysterics ^ 
You had better control yourself, for the dinner gong 
will sound directly.” 

Susan gasped two or three times, made a rush to 
Hester’s washhand-stand, and, taking up a glass, 
poured some cold water into it, and gulped it down. 

“ Now I can speak,” she said. “ I ran so fast that 
my breath quite left me. Hester, put on your walk- 
ing things or go without them, just as you please — 
only go at once if you would save her.” 

“ Save whom ? ” asked Hester. 

“Your little sister — little Nan. I — I saw it all. I 
was in the hammock, and nobody knew I was there, 
and somehow I wasn’t so sleepy as usual, and I heard 
Nan’s voice, and I looked over the side of the 
hammock, and she was sitting on the grass picking 
daisies, and her nurse was with her, and presently 
you came up. I heard you calling me, but I wasn’t 
going to answer. I felt too comfortable. You stayed 
with Nan and her nurse for a little, and then went 
away ; and I heard Nan’s nurse say to her : ‘ Sit here, 
Missy, till I come back to you ; I am going to fetch 
another reel of sewing cotton from the house. Sit 
still. Missy ; I’ll be back directly.’ She went away, 
and Nan went on picking her daisies. All on a sud- 
den I heard Nan give a sharp little cry, and I looked 
over the hammock, and there was a tall dark woman, 
with such a wicked face, and she snatched up Nan 


The Search Begins, 


235 


in her arms, and put a thick shawl over her face, 
and ran off with her. It was all done in an instant. 
I shouted, and I scrambled out of the hammock, and 
I rushed down the path ; but there wasn’t a sign of 
anybody tfiere. I don’t know where the woman went 
— it seemed as if the earth swallowed up both her and 
little Nan. Why, Hester, are you going to faint? ” 

“ Water I ” gasped Hester — one sip — now let 
me go.” 


CHAPTER XL. 

A GIPSY MAID. 

In a few moments every one in Lavender House was 
made acquainted with Susan’s story. At such a time 
ceremony was laid aside, dinner forgotten, teachers, 
pupils, servants all congregated in the grounds, all 
rushed to the spot where Nan’s withered daisies still 
lay, all peered through the underwood, and all, alas 1 
looked in vain for the tall dark woman and the little 
child. Little Nan, the baby of the school, had been 
stolen — there were loud and terrified lamentations. 
Nan’s nurse was almost tearing her hair, was rushing 
frantically here, there, and everywhere. No one blamed 
the nurse for leaving her little charge in apparent 
safety for a few moments, but the poor woman’s own 
distress was pitiable to see. Mrs. Willis took Hester’s 
hand, and told the poor stunned girl that she was 
sending to Sefton immediately for two or three police- 
men, and that in the meantime every man on the 
place should commence the search for the woman and 
child. 

“ Without any doubt,” Mrs. Willis added, "we shall 


236 A World of Girls, 

soon have our little Nan back again ; it is quite 
impossible that the woman, whoever she is, can have 
taken her so far away in so short a time.’* 

In the meantime, Annie in her bed-room heard 
the fuss and the noise. She leaned out of her window 
and saw Phyllis in the distance ; she called to her. 
Phyllis ran up, the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Oh, something so dreadful ! ” she gasped ; “ a 
wicked, wicked woman has stolen little Nan Thornton. 
She ran off with her just where the undergrowth is so 
thick at the end of the shady walk. It happened to 
her half an hour ago, and they are all looking, but 
they cannot find the woman or little Nan anywhere. 
Oh, it is so dreadful ! Is that you, Mary } ” 

Phyllis ran off to join her sister, and Annie put 
her head in again, and looked round her pretty room. 

“ The gipsy,” she murmured, ‘‘ the tall, dark gipsy 
has taken little Nan ! ” 

Her face was very white, her eyes shone, her lips 
expressed a firm and almost obstinate determination. 
With all her usual impulsiveness, she decided on a 
course of action — she snatched up a piece of paper 
and scribbled a hasty line : 

“Dear Mother-friend, — However badly you 
think of Annie, Annie loves you with all her heart. 
F'orgive me, I must go myself to look for little Nan. 
That tall, dark woman is a gipsy — I have seen her 
before ; her name is Mother Rachel. Tell Hetty I 
won’t return until I bring her little sister back. — Your 
repentant and sorrowful “ Annie.” 

Annie twisted up the note, directed it to Mrs. 
Willis, and left it on her dressing-table. 

Then, with a wonderful amount of forethought for 


**SiiE Loved to Talk of GipsiesL 237 

her, she emptied the contents of a little purse into a 
tiny gingham bag, which she fastened inside the front 
of her dress. She put on her shady hat, and threw a 
shawl across her arm, and then, slipping softly down- 
stairs, she went out through the deserted kitchens, 
down the back avenue, and past the laurel bush, until 
she came to the stile which led into the wood — she 
was going straight to the gipsies’ encampment. 

Annie, with some of the gipsy’s characteristics in 
her own blood, had always taken an extraordinary 
interest in these queer wandering people. Gipsies had 
a fascination for her, she loved stories about them ; 
if a gipsy encampment was near, she always begged 
the teachers to walk in that direction. Annie had a 
very vivid imagination, and in the days when she 
reigned as favourite in the school she used to make up 
stories for the express benefit of her companions. 
These stories, as a rule, always turned upon the 
gipsies. Many and many a time had the girls of 
Lavender House almost gasped with horror as Annie 
described the queer ways of these people. For her, 
personally, their wildness and their freedom had a 
certain fascination, and she was heard in her gayest 
moments to remark that she would rather like to be 
stolen and adopted by a gipsy tribe. 

Whenever Annie had an opportunity, she chatted 
with the gipsy wives, and allowed them to tell her 
fortune, and listened eagerly to their narratives. When 
a little child she had once for several months been 
under the care of a nurse who was a reclaimed gipsy, 
and this girl had given her all kinds of information 
about them. Annie often felt that she quite loved 
these wild people, and Mother Rachel was the first 
gipsy she cordially shrank from and disliked. 


238 


A World of Girls, 


When the little girl started now on her wild-goose 
chase after Nan, she was by no means devoid of a 
plan of action. The knowledge she had taken so 
many years to acquire came to her aid, and she 
determined to use it for Nan’s benefit. She knew 
that the gipsies, with all their wandering and erratic 
habits, had a certain attachment, if not for homes, at 
least for sites ; she knew that as a rule they encamped 
over and over again in the same place ; she knew 
that their wanderings were conducted with method, 
and their apparently lawless lives governed by strict 
self-made rules. 

Annie made straight now for the encampment, 
which stood in a little dell at the other side of the 
fairies’ field. Here for weeks past the gipsies’ tents 
had been seen ; here the gipsy children had played, 
and the men and women smoked and lain about in 
the sun. 

Annie entered the small field now, but uttered no 
exclamation of surprise when she found that all the 
tents, with the exception of one, had been removed, 
and that this tent also was being rapidly taken down 
by a man and a girl, while a tall boy stood by, holding 
a donkey by the bridle. 

Annie wasted no time in looking for Nan here. 
Before the girl and the man could see her, she darted 
behind a bush, and removing her little bag of money, 
hid it carefully under some long grass ; then she pulled 
a very bright yellow sash out of her pocket, tied it 
round her blue cotton dress, and leaving her little 
shawl also on the ground, tripped gaily up to the tent. 

She saw with pleasure that the girl who was help- 
ing the man was about her own size. She went up 
and touched her on the shoulder. 



**THE GIRL , . . . RETURNED TO SHEAR POOR ANNIE’S BEAUTIFUL 

HAIR ” (/. 239), 





t 


1 

I 




i 

J 


1 


i 



A Transformation. 


239 


" Look here,” she said, “ I want to make such a 
pretty play by-and-by — I want to play that I’m a 
gipsy girl. Will you give me your clothes, if I give 
you mine ? See, mine are neat, and this sash is very 
handsome. Will you have them ? Do. I am so 
anxious to play at being a gipsy.” 

The girl turned and stared. Annie’s pretty blue 
print and gay sash were certainly tempting bait She 
glanced at her father. 

“ The little lady wants to change,” she said in an 
eager voice. 

The man nodded acquiescence, and the girl taking 
Annie’s hand, ran quickly . with her to the bottom of 
the field. 

“ You don’t mean it, surely ? ” she said. Eh, but 
I’m uncommon willing.” 

“Yes, I certainly mean itT said Annie. “You 
are a dear, good, obliging girl, and how nice you 
will look in my pretty blue cotton ! I like that 
striped petticoat of yours, too, and that gay hand- 
kerchief you wear round your shoulders. Thank 
you so very much. Now, do I look like a real, real 
gipsy ? ” 

“ Your hair ain’t ragged enough, miss.” 

“ Oh, clip it, then ; clip it away. I want to 
be quite the real thing. Have you got a pair of 
scissors ? ” 

The girl ran back to the tent, and presently re- 
turned to shear poor Annie’s beautiful hair in truly 
rough fashion. 

“ Now, miss, you look much more like, only your 
arms are a bit too white. Stay, we has got some 
walnut-juice ; we was just a-using of it. I’ll touch you 
up fine, miss.” 


240 A World of Girls. 

So she did, darkening Annie’s brown skin to a 
real gipsy tone. 

“You’re a dear, good girl,” said Annie, in con- 
clusion ; and as the girl’s father called her roughly at 
this moment, she was obliged to go away, looking 
ungainly enough in the English child’s neat clothes. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

DISGUISED. 

Annie ran out of the field, mounted the stile which 
led into the wood, and stood there until the gipsy 
man and girl, and the boy with the donkey, had 
finally disappeared. Then she left her hiding-place, 
and taking her little gingham bag out of the long 
grass, secured it once more in the front of her dress. 
She felt queer and uncomfortable in her new dress, 
and the gipsy girl’s heavy shoes tired her feet ; but 
she was not to be turned from her purpose by any 
manner of discomforts, and she started bravely on her 
long trudge over the dusty roads, for her object was to 
follow the gipsies to their next encampment, about 
ten miles away. She had managed, with some tact, 
to obtain a certain amount of information from the 
delighted gipsey girl. The girl told Annie that she 
was very glad they were going from here ; that this 
was a very dull place, and that they would not have 
stayed so long but for Mother Rachel, who, for some 
reasons of her own, had refused to stir. 

Here the girl drew herself up short, and coloured 
under her dark skin. But Annie’s tact never failed. 
She even yawned a little, and seemed scarcely to hear 
the girl’s words. 


Some Secrets, 


241 


Now, in the distance, she followed these people. 

In her disguise, uncomfortable as it was, she felt 
tolerably safe. Should any of the people in Lavender 
House happen to pass her on the way, they would 
never recognise Annie Forest in this small gipsy 
maiden. When she did approach the gipsies’ dwell- 
ing she might have some hope of passing as one of 
themselves. The only one whom she had really to 
fear was the girl with whom she had changed clothes, 
and she trusted to her wits to keep out of this young 
person’s way. 

When Zillah, her old gipsy nurse, had charmed 
her long ago with gipsy legends and stories, Annie 
had always begged to hear about the fair English 
children whom the gipsies stole, and Zillah had let 
her into some secrets which partly accounted for 
the fact that so few of these children are ever re- 
covered. 

She walked very fast now; her depression was 
gone, a great excitement, a great longing, a great 
hope, keeping her up. She forgot that she had eaten 
nothing since breakfast ; she forgot everything in 
all the world now but her great love for little Nan, 
and her desire to lay down her very life, if necessary, 
to rescue Nan from the terrible fate which awaited 
her if she was brought up as a gipsy’s child. 

Annie, however, was unaccustomed to such long 
walks, and besides, recent events had weakened her, 
and by the time she reached Sefton — for her road 
lay straight through this little town— she was so hot 
and thirsty that she looked around her anxiously to 
find some place of refreshment. 

In an unconscious manner she, paused before a 
restaurant, where she and several other girls of Laven- 
P 



242 A World of Girls, 

der House had more than once been regaled with 
buns and milk. 

The remembrance of the fresh milk and the nice 
buns came gratefully before the memory of the tired 
child now. Forgetting her queer attire, she went into 
the shop, and walked boldly up to the counter. 

Annie’s disguise, however, was good, and the 
young woman who was serving, instead of bending 
forward with the usual gracious “ What can I get for 
you, miss .? said very sharply — 

“ Go away at once, little girl ; we don’t allow 
beggars here ; leave the shop instantly. No, I have 
nothing for you.” 

Annie was about to reply rather hotly, for she had 
an idea that even a gipsy’s money might purchase 
buns and milk, when she was suddenly startled, and 
almost terrified into betraying herself, by encountering 
the gentle and fixed stare of Miss Jane Bruce, who 
had been leaning over the counter and talking to 
one of the shop- women when Annie entered. 

“ Here is a penny for you, little girl,” she said. 
“ You can get a nice hunch of stale bread for a penny 
in the shop at the corner of the High Street.” 

Annie’s eyes flashed back at the little lady, her 
lips quivered, and, clasping the penny, she rushed out 
of the shop. 

“ My dear,” said Miss Jane, turning to her sister 
“did you notice the extraordinary likeness that little 
gipsy girl bore to Annie Forest? ” 

Miss Agnes sighed. “ Not particularly, love,** 
she answered ; “ but I scarcely looked at her. I 
wonder if our dear little Annie is any happier than 
she was. Ah, I think we have done here. Good 
afternoon, Mrs. Tremlett.” 




The Other Side of Seftoh. 243 

The little old ladies trotted off, giving no more 
thoughts to the gipsy child. 

Poor Annie almost ran down the street, and never 
paused till she reached a shop of much humbler ap- 
pearance, where she was served with some cold slices 
of German sausage, some indifferent bread and butter, 
and milk by no means over-good. The coarse fare, 
and the rough people who surrounded her, made the 
poor child feel both sick and frightened. She found 
she could only keep up her character by remaining 
almost silent, for the moment she opened her lips 
people turned round and stared at her. 

She paid for her meal, however, and presently 
found herself at the other side of Sefton, and in a part 
of the country which was comparatively strange to 
her. The gipsies’ present encampment was about a 
mile away from the town of Oakley, a much larger 
place than Sefton. Sefton and Oakley lay about six 
miles apart Annie trudged bravely on, her head 
aching ; for, of course, as a gipsy girl, she could use 
no parasol to shade her from the sun. At last the 
comparative cool of the evening arrived, and the little 
girl gave a sigh of relief, and looked forward to her 
bed and supper at Oakley. She had made up her 
mind to sleep there, and to go to the gipsies’ encamp- 
ment very early in the morning. It was quite dark 
by the time she reached Oakley, and she was now so 
tired, and her feet so blistered from walking in the 
gipsy girl’s rough shoes, that she could scarcely 
proceed another step. The noise and the size of 
Oakley, too, bewildered and frightened her. She had 
learnt a lesson in Sefton, and dared not venture into • 
the more respectable streets. How could she sleep in 
those hot, common, close houses ? Surely it would be 
P 2 


244 


A World of Girls, 


better for her to lie down under a cool hedge-row — 
there could be no real cold on this lovely summer’s 
night, and the hours would quickly pass, and the time 
soon arrive when she must go boldly in search of 
Nan. She resolved to sleep in a hayfield which took 
her fancy just outside the town, and she only went 
into Oakley for the purpose of buying some bread and 
milk. 

Annie was so far fortunate as to get a refreshing 
draught of really good milk from a woman who 
stood by a cottage door, and who gave her a piece of 
girdle-cake to eat with it. 

“You’re one of the gipsies, my dear said the 
woman. “ I saw them passing in their caravans an 
hour back. No doubt you are for taking up your 
old quarters in the copse, just alongside of Squire 
Thompson’s long acre field. How is it you are not 
with the rest of them, child ? ” 

“ I was late in starting,” said Annie. “Can you 
tell me the best way to get from here to the long 
acre field 

“ Oh ! you take that turn-stile, child, and keep in 
the narrow path by the cornfields ; it’s two miles and 
a half from here as the crow flies. No, no, my dear, 
I don’t want your pennies ; but you might humour 
my little girl here by telling her fortune — she’s 
wonderful taken by the gipsy folk.” 

Annie coloured painfully. The child came for- 
ward, and she crossed her hand with a piece of silver. 
She looked at the little palm and muttered some- 
thing about being rich and fortunate, and marrying 
a prince in disguise, and having no trouble whatever. 

“ Eh ! but that’s a fine lot, is yours, Peggy,” said 
the gratified mother. 


‘Wo Proper Gipsy.** 245 

Peggy however, aged nine, had a wiser head on 
her young shoulders. 

"She didn^t tell no proper fortune,” she said 
disparagingly, when Annie left the cottage. “She 
didn’t speak about no crosses, and no biting dis- 
appointments, and no bleeding wounds. I don’t 
believe in her, I don’t. I like fortunes mixed, not all 
one way; them fortunes ain’t natural, and I don’t, 
believe she’s no proper gipsy girl.” 


CHAPTER XLIL 

HESTER. 

At Lavender House the confusion, the terror, and 
the dismay were great. For several hours the girls 
seemed quite to lose their heads, and just when, 
under Mrs. Willis’s and the other teachers’ calmness 
and determination, they were being restored to disci- 
pline and order, the excitement and alarm broke out 
afresh when some one brought Annie’s little note to 
Mrs. Willis, and the school discovered that she also 
was missing. 

On this occasion no one did doubt her motive ; 
disobedient as her act was, no one wasted words of 
blame on her. All, from the head-mistress to the 
smallest child in the school, knew that it was love for 
little Nan that had taken Annie off ; and the tears 
started to Mrs. Willis’s eyes when she first read the 
tiny note, and then placed it tenderly in her desk. 
Hester’s face became almost ashen in its hue when 
she heard what Annie had done. 

“Annie has gone herself to bring back Nan to 




246 A World of Girls. 

you, Hester,” said Phyllis. “It was I told her, and I 
know now by her face that she must have made up 
her mind at once.” 

“ Very disobedient of her to go,” said Dora 
Russell ; but no one took up Dora’s tone, and Mary 
Price said, after a pause — 

“ Disobedient or not, it was brave — it was really 
very plucky.” 

“It is my opinion,” said Nora, “that if anyone 
in the world can find little Nan it will be Annie. 
You remember, Phyllis, how often she has talked to 
us about gipsies, and what a lot she knows about 
them ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; she’ll be better than fifty policemen,” 
echoed several girls ; and then two or three young 
faces were turned towards Hester, and some voice 
said almost scornfully — 

“You^ll have to love Annie now; you’ll have to 
admit that there is something good in our Annie 
when .she brings your little Nan home again.” 

Hester’s lip quivered ; she tried to speak, but 
a sudden burst of tears came from her instead. She 
walked slowly out of the astonished little group, who 
none of them believed that proud Hester Thornton 
could weep. 

The wretched girl rushed up to her room, 
where she threw herself on her bed and gave way 
to some of the bitterest tears she had ever shed. 
All her indifference to Annie, all her real unkind- 
ness, all her ever-increasing dislike came back now 
to torture and harass her. She began to believe 
with the girls that Annie would be successful ; she 
began dimly to acknowledge in her heart the strange 
power which this child possessed ; she guessed that 


Hester's Bitterness, 


247 


Annie would heap coals of fire on her head by- 
bringing back her little sister. She hoped, she 
longed, she could almost have found it in her heart 
to pray that some one else, not Annie, might save 
little Nan. 

For not yet had Hester made up her mind to 
confess the truth about Annie Forest. To confess 
the truth now meant humiliation in the eyes of the 
whole school. Even for Nan’s sake she could not, 
she would not, be great enough for this. 

Sobbing on her bed, trembling from head to foot, 
in an agony of almost uncontrollable grief, she could 
not bring her proud and stubborn little heart to 
accept God’s only way of peace. No, she hoped she 
might be able to influence Susan Drummond and 
induce her to confess, and if Annie was not cleared 
in that way, if she really saved little Nan, she would 
doubtless be restored to much of her lost favour in 
the school. 

Hester had never been a favourite at Laven- 
der House ; but now her great trouble caused all the 
girls to speak to her kindly and considerately, and 
as she lay on her bed she presently heard a gentle 
step on the floor of her room — a cool little hand 
was laid tenderly on her forehead, and opening her 
swollen eyes, she met Cecil’s loving gaze. 

“ There is no news yet, Hester,” said Cecil ; “ but 
Mrs. Willis has just gone herself into Sefton, and 
will not lose an hour in getting further help. Mrs. 
Willis looks quite haggard. Of course she is very 
anxious both about Annie and Nan.” 

“ Oh, Annie is safe enough,” murmured Hester, 
burying her head in the bedclothes. 

“I don’t know; Annie is very impulsive, and 


248 


A World of Girls. 


very pretty ; the gipsies may like to steal her too— 
of course she has gone straight to one of their en- 
campments. Naturally Mrs. Willis is most anxious.” 

Hester pressed her hand to her throbbing head. 

“ We are all so sorry for you, dear,” said Cecil 
gently. 

“ Thank you — being sorry for one does not do a 
great deal of good, does it ? ” 

“ I thought sympathy always did good,” replied 
Cecil, looking puzzled. 

“ Thank you,” said Hester again. She lay quite 
still for several minutes with her eyes closed. Her 
face looked intensely unhappy. Cecil was not easily 
repelled, and she guessed only too surely that 
Hester’s proud heart was suffering much. She was 
puzzled, however, how to approach her, and had 
almost made up her mind to go away and beg of 
kind-hearted Miss Danesbury to see if she could 
come and do something, when through the open 
window there came the shrill sweet laughter and the 
eager, high-pitched tones of some of the youngest 
children in the school. A strange quiver passed 
over Hester’s face at the sound ; she sat up in bed, 
and gasped out in a half-strangled voice — 

“Oh! I can’t bear it — little Nan, little Nan! 
Cecil, I am very, very unhappy.” 

“ I know it, darling,” said Cecil, and she put her 
arms round the excited girl. “ Oh, Hester ! don’t 
turn away from me ; do let us be unhappy together.” 

“ But you did not care for Nan.” 

“ I did — we all loved the pretty darling.” 

“Suppose I never see her again.?” said Hester 
half wildly. “ Oh, Cecil 1 and mother left her to me 1 
mother gave her to me to take care of, and to bring 


Mrs. Willis's Return. 


249 


to her some day in heaven. Oh, little Nan, my 
pretty, my love, my sweet ! I think I could better 
bear her being dead than this.” 

“You could, Hester,” said Cecil, “if she was 
never to be found ; but I don’t think God will give 
you such a terrible punishment. I think little Nan 
will be restored to you. Let us ask God to do it, 
Hetty — let us kneel down now, we two little girls, 
and pray to Him with all our might.” 

“ I can’t pray ; don^t ask me,” said Hester, turn- 
ing her face away. 

“ Then I will.” 

“ But not here, Cecil. Cecil, I am not good — I 
am not good enough to pray.” 

“ We don’t want to be good to pray,” said Cecil. 
“We want perhaps to be unhappy — perhaps sorry ; 
but if God waited just for goodness, I don’t think He 
would get many prayers.” 

“ Well, I am unhappy, but not sorry. No, no ; 
don’t ask me, I cannot pray.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

SUSAN. 

Mrs. Willis came back at a very late hour from 
Sefton. The police were confident that they must 
soon discover both children, but no tidings had yet 
been heard of either of them. Mrs. Willis ordered 
her girls to bed, and went herself to kiss Hester and 
give her a special “ good-night.” She was struck by 
the peculiarly unhappy, and even hardened, expres- 


2 so A World of Girls, 

sion on the poor child’s face, and felt that she did 
not half understand her. 

In the middle of the night Hester awoke from a 
troubled dream. She awoke with a sharp cry, so 
sharp and intense in its sound that had any girl been 
awake in the next room she must have heard it. She 
felt that she could no longer remain close to that 
little empty cot. She suddenly remembered that 
Susan Drummond would be alone to-night : what 
time so good as the present for having a long talk 
with Susan and getting her to clear Annie? She 
slipped out of bed, put on her dressing-gown, and 
softly opening the door, ran down the passage to 
Susan’s room. 

Susan was in bed, and fast asleep. Hester could 
see her face quite plainly in the moonlight, for Susan 
slept facing the window, and the blind was not drawn 
down. 

Hester had some difficulty in awakening Miss 
Drummond, who, however, at last sat up in bed, 
yawning prodigiously. 

“ What is the matter ? Is that you, Hester 
Thornton? Have you got any news of little Nan? 
Has Annie come back ? 

“No, they are both still away. Susy, I want to 
speak to you.” 

“ Dear me ! what for ? must you speak in the 
middle of the night ? ” 

“ Yes, for I don’t want any one else to know. Oh, 
Susan, please don’t go to sleep.” 

“ My dear, I won’t, if I can help it. Do you mind 
throwing a little cold water over my face and head ? 
There is a can by the bed-side. I always keep one 
handy. Ah, thanks — now I am wide awake. I shall 


“7 HAVE Fovnd you Out^ 251 

probably remain so for about two minutes. Can you 
get your say over in that time ? ” 

wonder, Susan,” said Hester, “if you have 
got any heart — but heart or not, I have just come 
here to-night to tell you that I have found you out. 
You are at the bottom of all this mischief about 
Annie Forest.” 

Susan had a most phlegmatic face, an utterly un- 
emotional voice, and she now stared calmly at Hester 
and demanded to know what in the world she meant. 

Hester felt her temper going, her self-control 
deserting her. Susan’s apparent innocence and in- 
difference drove her half frantic. 

“ Oh, you are mean,” she said. You pretend to 
be innocent, but you are the deepest and wickedest 
girl in the school. I tell you, Susan, I have found you 
out — you put that caricature of Mrs. Willis into Cecil’s 
book ; you changed Dora’s theme. I don’t know why 
you did it, nor how you did it, but you are the guilty 
person, and you have allowed the sin of it to remain 
on Annie’s shoulders all this time. Oh, you are the 
very meanest girl I ever heard of!” 

“ Dear, dear ! ” said Susan, “ I wish I had not asked 
you to throw cold water over my head and face, and 
allow myself to be made very wet and uncomfortable, 
just to be told I am the meanest girl you ever met. 
And pray what affair is this of yours ? You certainly 
don’t love Annie Forest.” 

" I don’t, but I want justice to be done to her. 
Annie is very, very unhappy. Oh, Susy, won’t you 
go and tell Mrs. Willis the truth .? ” 

“ Really, my dear Hester, I think you are a 
little mad. How Ipng have you known all this about 
we, pray ? ” 


252 


A World of Girls, 


Oh, for some time ; since — since the night the 
essay was changed.” 

“ Ah, then, if what you state is true, you told Mrs. 
Willis a lie, for she distinctly asked you if you knew 
anything about the ‘Muddy Stream,’ and you said 
you didn’t. I saw you — I remarked how very red 
you got when you plumped out that great lie ! My 
dear, if I am the meanest and wickedest girl in the 
school, prove it — go, tell Mrs. Willis what you know. 
Now, if you will allow me, I will get back into the 
land of dreams.” 

Susan curled herself up once more in her bed, 
wrapped the bed-clothes tightly round her, and was 
to all appearance oblivious of Hester’s presence 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

UNDER THE HEDGE. 

It is one thing to talk of the delights of sleeping 
under a hedgerow and another to realise them. A 
hayfield is a very charming place, but in the middle 
of the night, with the dew clinging to everything, it is 
apt to prove but a chilly bed; the most familiar 
objects put on strange and unreal forms, the 
most familiar sounds become loud and alarming. 
Annie slept for about an hour soundly ; then she 
awoke, trembling with cold in every limb, startled and 
almost terrified by the oppressive loneliness of the 
night, sure that the insect life which surrounded her, 
and which would keep up successions of chirps, and 
croaks, and buzzes, was something mysterious and 
terrifying. Annie was a brave child, but even brave 


A Bed of Hay. 


253 


little girls may be allowed to possess nerves under her 
present conditions, and when a spider ran across her 
face she started up with a scream of terror. At this 
moment she almost regretted the close and dirty 
lodgings which she might have obtained for a few 
pence at Oakley. The hay in the field which she had 
selected was partly cut and partly standing. The cut 
portion had been piled up into little cocks and hillocks, 
and these, with the night shadows round them, ap- 
peared to the frightened child to assume large and 
half-human proportions. She found she could not 
sleep any longer. She wrapped her shawl tightly 
round her, and, crouching into the hedgerow, waited 
for the dawn. 

That watched-for dawn seemed to the tired child 
as if it would never come ; but at last her solitary 
vigil came to an end, the cold grew greater, a little 
gentle breeze stirred the uncut grass, and up in the 
sky overhead the stars became fainter and the 
atmosphere clearer. Then came a little faint flush of 
pink, then a brighter light, and then all in a moment 
the birds burst into a perfect jubilee of song, the 
insects talked and chirped and buzzed in new tones, 
the hay-cocks became simply hay-cocks, the dew 
sparkled on the wet grass, the sun had risen, and the 
new day had begun. 

Annie sat up and rubbed her tired eyes. With 
the sunshine and brightness her versatile spirits re- 
vived ; she buckled on her courage like an armour, 
and almost laughed at the miseries of the past few 
hours. Once more she believed that success and 
victory would be hers, once more in her small way 
she was ready to do or die. She believed absolutely 
in the holiness of her mission. Love— love alone 


254 


A World of G/rls. 


simple •and pure, was guiding her. She gave no 
thought to after-consequences, she gave no memory 
to past events : her object now was to rescue Nan, 
and she herself was nothing. 

Annie had a fellow-feeling, a rare sympathy with 
every little child ; but no child had ever come to take 
Nan’s place with her. The child she had first begun 
to notice simply out of a naughty spirit of revenge, 
had twined herself round her heart, and Annie loved 
Nan all the more dearly because she had long ago 
repented of stealing her affections from Hester, and 
would 'gladly have restored her to her old place next 
to Hetty’s heart. Her love for Nan, therefore, had 
the purity and greatness which all love that calls 
forth self-sacrifice must possess. Annie had denied 
herself, and kept away from Nan of late. Now, in- 
deed, she was going to rescue her ; but if she thought 
of herself at all, it was with the certainty that for this 
present act of disobedience Mrs. Willis would dis- 
miss her from the school, and she would not see 
little Nan again. 

Never mind that, if Nan herself was saved. Annie 
was disobedient, but on this occasion she was not 
unhappy ; she had none of that remorse which 
troubled her so much after her wild picnic in the 
fairies’ field. On the contrary, she had a strange sense 
of peace and even guidance ; she had confessed this 
sin to Mrs. Willis,'and, though she was suspected of 
far worse, her own innocence kept her heart un- 
troubled. The verse which had occurred to her two 
mornings before still rang in her ears — 

“ A soul which has sinned and is pardoned again.” 

The impulsive, eager child was possessed just now 


I 


True Courage. ^55 

/ 

of something which men call True Courage ; it was 
founded on the knowledge that God would help her, 
and was accordingly calm and strengthening. 

Annie rose from her damp bed, and looked around 
her for a little stream where she might wash her face 
and hands ; suddenly she remembered that face 
and hands were dyed, and that she would do best to 
leave them alone. She smoothed out as best she 
could the ragged elf-locks which the gipsy maid had 
left on her curly head, and then, covering her face 
with her hands, said simply and earnestly — 

“Please, my Father in heaven, help me to find 
little Nan ; ” then she set off through the cornfields in 
the direction of the gipsies’ encampment. 


CHAPTER XLV. 

TIGER . 

It was still very, very early in the morning, and the 
gipsy-folk, tired from their march on the preceding 
day, slept. There stood the conical, queer-shaped 
tents, four in number ; at a little distance off grazed 
the donkeys and a couple of rough mules ; at the door 
of the tents lay stretched out in profound repose two 
or three dogs. 

Annie dreaded the barking of the dogs, although 
she guessed that if they set up a noise, and a gipsy 
wife or man put out their heads in consequence, they 
would only desire the gipsy child to lie down and 
keep quiet. 

She stood still for a moment — she was very 
anxious to prowl around the place and examine the 


L, 


256 A World of Girls. 

ground while the gipsies still slept, but the watchful 
dogs deterred her. She stood perfectly quiet behind 
the hedge-row, thinking hard. Should she trust to a 
charm she knew she possessed, and venture into the 
encampment ? Annie had almost as great a fascina- 
tion over dogs and cats as she had over children. 
As a little child going to visit with her mother at 
strange houses, the watch-dogs never barked at her ; 
on the contrary, they yielded to the charm which 
seemed to come from her little fihgers as she patted 
their great heads. Slowly their tails would move 
backwards and forwards as she petted them, and 
even the most ferocious would look at her with 
affection. 

Annie wondered if the gipsy dogs would now 
allow her to approach without barking. She felt 
that the chances were in her favour ; she was dressed 
in gipsy garments, there would be nothing strange 
in her appearance, and if she could get near one of 
the dogs she knew that she could exercise the magic 
of her touch. 

Her object, then, was to approach one of the tents 
very, very quietly — so softly that even the dog’s ears 
should not detect the light footfall If she could 
approach close enough to put her hand on the dog’s 
neck all would be well. She pulled off the gipsy 
maid^s rough shoes, hid them in the grass where she 
could find them again, and came gingerly, step by 
step, nearer and nearer the principal tent. At its 
entrance lay a ferocious-looking half-bred bull-dog. 
Annie possessed that necessary accompaniment to 
courage — great outward calm ; the greater the dan- 
ger, the more cool and self-possessed did she become. 
She was within a step or two of the tent when she 


Her Magical Touch, 257 

trod accidentally on a small twig; it cracked, giving 
her foot a sharp pain, and, very slight as the sound 
was, causing the bull-dog to awake. He raised his 
wicked face, saw the figure like his own people, and 
yet unlike, but a step or two away, and, uttering a low 
growl, sprang forward. 

In the ordinary course of things this growl would 
have risen in volume and would have terminated in a 
volley of barking ; but Annie was prepared : she went 
down on her knees, held out her arms, said, “ Poor 
fellow ! ” in her own seductive voice, and the bull-dog 
fawned at her feet. He licked one of her hands while 
she patted him gently with the other. 

“Come, poor fellow,” she said then in a gentle 
tone, and Annie and the dog began to perambulate 
round the tents. 

The other dogs raised sleepy eyes, but seeing 
Tiger and the girl together, took no notice whatever, 
except by a thwack or two of their stumpy tails. 
Annie was now looking not only at the tents, but for 
something else which Zillah, her nurse, had told her 
might be found near to many gipsy encampments. 
This was a small subterranean passage, which gener- 
ally led into a long-disused underground Danish fort. 
Zillah had told her what uses the gipsies liked to 
make of these underground passages, and how they 
often chose those which had two entrances. She told 
her that in this way they eluded the police, and were 
enabled successfully to hide the goods which they 
stole. She had also described to her their great in- 
genuity in hiding the entrances to these underground 
retreats. 

Annie’s idea now was that little Nan was hidden 
in one of these vaults, and she determined first to 
Q 


258 


A World of Girls, 


make sure of its existence, and then to venture herself 
ii to this underground region in search of the lost 
child. 

She had made a decided conquest in the person of 
Tiger, who followed her round and round the tents, 
and when the gipsies at last began to stir, and Annie 
crept into the hedge-row, the dog crouched by her 
side. Tiger was the favourite dog of the camp, and 
presently one of the men called to him ; he rose un- 
willingly, looked back with longing eyes at Annie, 
and trotted off, to return in the space of about five 
minutes with a great hunch of broken bread in his 
mouth. This was his breakfast, and he meant to 
share it with his new friend. Annie was too hungry 
to be fastidious, and she also knew the necessity of 
keeping up her strength. She crept still farther under 
the hedge, and the dog and girl shared the broken 
bread between them. 

Presently the tents were all astir ; the gipsy 
children began to swarm about, the women lit fires in 
the open air, and the smell of very appetising break- 
fasts filled the atmosphere. The men also lounged 
into view, standing lazily at the doors of their tents, 
and smoking great pipes of tobacco. Annie lay quiet. 
She could see from her hiding-place without being 
seen. Suddenly — and her eyes began to dilate, and 
she found her heart beating strangely — she laid her 
hand on Tiger, who was quivering all over. 

“ Stay with me, dear dog,” she said. 

There was a great commotion and excitement in 
the gipsy camp ; the children screamed and ran into 
the tents, the women paused in their preparation for 
breakfast, the men took their short pipes out of their 
mouths; every dog, with the exception of Tiger, 


The Girl and the Dog, 259 

barked ferociously. Tiger and Annie alone were 
motionless. 

The cause of ail this uproar was a body of police, 
about six. in number, who came boldly into the field, 
and demanded instantly to search the tents. 

“We want a woman who calls herself Mother 
Rachel,” they said. “ She belongs to this encamp- 
ment. We know her ; let her come forward at once ; 
we wish to question her.^^ 

The m^n stood about ; the women came near ; 
the children crept out of their tents, placing their 
fingers to their frightened lips, and staring at the 
men who represented those horrors to their unso- 
phisticated minds called Law and Order. 

“ We must search the tents. We won’t stir from 
the spot until we have had an interview with Mother 
Rachel,’"’ said the principal member of the police 
force. 

The men answered respectfully that the gipsy 
mother was not yet up ; but if the gentlemen would 
wait a moment she would soon come and speak to 
them. 

The officers expressed their willingness to wait, 
and collected round the tents. 

Just at this instant, under the hedge-row,' Tiger 
raised his head. Annie’s watchful eyes accompanied 
the dog’s. He was gazing after a tiny gipsy maid 
who was skulking along the hedge, and who presently 
disappeared through a very small opening into the 
neighbouring field. 

Quick as thought Annie, holding Tiger’s collar, 
darted after her. The little maid heard the foot- 
steps ; but seeing another gipsy girl, and their own 
dog, Tiger, she took no further notice, but ran openly 
Q2 


26 o 


A World op Girls. 


and very swiftly across the field until she came to a 
broken wall. Here she tugged and tugged at some 
loose stones, managed to push one away, and then 
called down into the ground — 

“ Mother Rachel ! ’’ 

“ Come, Tiger,” said Annie. She flew to a hedge 
not far off, and once more the dog and she hid them- 
selves. The small girl was too excited to notice 
either their coming or going; she went on calling 
anxiously into the ground — 

“ Mother Rachel ! Mother Rachel ! ” 

Presently a black head and a pair of brawny 
shoulders appeared, and the tall woman whose face 
and figure Annie knew so well stepped up out of the 
ground, pushed back the stones into their place, and, 
taking the gipsy child into her arms, ran swiftly 
across the field in the direction of the tents. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

FOR LOVE OF NAN. 

Now was Annie’s time. “Tiger,” she said, for she 
had heard the men calling the dog’s name, “ I want 
to go right down into that hole in the ground, and 
you are to come with me. DonT let us lose a 
moment, good ddg.” 

The dog wagged his tail, capered about in front 
of Annie, and then with a wonderful shrewdness ran 
before her to the broken wall, where he stood with 
his head bent downwards and his eyes fixed on the 
ground. 

Annie pulled and tugged at the loose stones; 


The Hole in the Ground. 261 

they were so heavy and so cunningly arranged that 
she wondered how the little maid, who was smaller 
than herself, had managed to remove them. She 
saw quickly, however, that they were arranged with 
a certain leverage, and that the largest stone, that 
which formed the real entrance to the underground 
passage, was balanced in its place in such a fashion 
that when she leant on a certain portion of it, it 
moved aside, and allowed plenty of room for her to 
go down into the earth. 

Very dark and dismal and uninviting did the 
rude steps, which led nobody knew where, appear. 
For one moment Annie hesitated ; but the thought of 
Nan hidden somewhere in this awful wretchedness 
nerved her courage. 

“Go first. Tiger, please,” she said, and the dog 
scampered down, sniffing the earth as he went. 
Annie followed him, but she had scarcely got her 
head below the level of the ground before she found 
herself in total and absolute darkness; she had un- 
wittingly touched the heavy stone, which had swung 
back into its place. She heard Tiger sniffing below, 
and, calling to him to keep by her side, she went 
very carefully down and down and down, until at 
last she knew by the increase of air that she must 
have come to the end of the narrow entrance 
passage. 

She was now able to stand upright, and raising 
her hand, she tried in vain to find a roof. The room 
where she stood, then, must be lofty. She went 
forward in the utter darkness very, very slowly; 
suddenly her head again came in contact with the 
roof ; she made a few steps farther on, and then 
found that to proceed at all she must go on her hands 


262 


A World of G/rls. 


and knees. She bent down and peered through the 
darkness. 

“ We’ll go on, Tiger,” she said, and, holding the 
dog’s collar and clinging to him for protection, she 
crept along the narrow passage. 

■ Suddenly she gave an exclamation of joy — at 
the other end of this gloomy passage was light 
— faint twilight surely, but still undoubted light, 
which came down from some chink in the outer 
world. Annie came to the end of the passage, and, 
standing upright, found herself suddenly in a room ; 
a very small and miserable room, certainly, but with 
the twilight shining through it, which revealed not, 
only that it was a room, but a room which contained 
a heap of straw, a three-legged stool, and two or three 
cracked cups and saucers. Here, then, was Mother 
Rachel’s lair, and here she must look for Nan. 

The darkness had been so intense that even the 
faint twilight of this little chamber had dazzled 
Annie’s eyes for a moment ; the next, however, her 
vision became clear. She saw that the straw bed 
contained a bundle ; she went near — out of the 
wrapped-up bundle of shawls appeared the head of a 
child. The child slept, and moaned in its slumbers. 

Annie bent over it and said, “ Thank God ! ” in a 
tone of rapture, and then, stooping down, she pas- 
sionately kissed the lips of little Nan. 

Nan’s skin had been dyed with the walnut-juice, 
her pretty, soft hair had been cut short, her dainty 
clothes had been changed for the most ragged gipsy 
garments, but still she was undoubtedly Nan, the 
child whom Annie had come to save. 

From her uneasy slumbers the poor little one 
awoke with a cry of terror. She could not recognise 


Little Nan want 'Oo^ 263 

Annie’s changed face, and clasped her hands before 
her eyes, and said piteously — 

“ Me want to go home — go ’way, naughty woman, 
me want my Annie.” 

“ Little darling ! ” said Annie, in her sweetest tones. 
The changed face had not appealed to Nan, but the 
old voice went straight to her baby heart ; she 
stopped crying and looked anxiously towards the 
entrance of the room. 

“ Turn in, Annie — me here, Aiinie — little Nan 
want ’00.” 

Annie glanced around her in despair. Suddenly 
her quick eyes lighted on a jug of water ; she flew 
to it, and washed and laved her face. 

“ Coming, darling,” she said, as she tried to remove 
the hateful dye. She succeeded partly, and when 
she came back, to her great joy, the child recognised 
her. 

“Now, little precious, we will get out of this as 
fast as we can,” said Annie, and, clasping Nan tightly 
in her arms, she prepared to return by the way she 
had come. Then and there, for the first time, there 
flashed across her memory the horrible fact that the 
stone door had swung back into its place, and that by 
no possible means could she open it. She and Nan 
and Tiger were buried in a living tomb, and must 
either stay there and perish, or await the tender 
mercies of the cruel Mother Rachel. 

Nan, with her arms tightly clasped round Annie’s 
neck, began to -cry fretfully. She was impatient to 
get out of this dismal place ; she was no longer 
oppressed by fears, for with the Annie whom she 
loved she felt absolutely safe ; but she was hungry 
and cold and uncomfortable, and it seemed but a 


264 A World of Girls. 

step, to little inexperienced Nan, from Annie’s arms to 
her snug, cheerful nursery at Lavender House. 

“ Turn, Annie — turn home, Annie,” she begged, 
and, when Annie did not stir, she began to weep. 

In truth, the poor, brave little girl was sadly 
puzzled, and her first gleam of returning hope lay in 
the remembrance of Zillah’s words, that there were 
generally two entrances to these old underground 
forts. Tiger, who seemed thoroughly at home in 
this little room, and had curled himself up comfortably 
on the heap of straw, had probably often been here 
before. Perhaps Tiger knew the way to the second 
entrance. Annie called him to her side. 

Tiger,” she said, going down on her knees, and 
looking full into his ugly but intelligent face, “ Nan 
and I want to go out of this.” 

Tiger wagged his stumpy tail. 

“ We are hungry. Tiger, and we want something 
to eat, and you’d like a bone, wouldn’t you ? ” 

Tiger’s tail went with ferocious speed, and he 
licked Annie’s hand. 

“ There’s no use going back that way, dear dog,” 
continued the girl, pointing with her arm in the 
direction they had come. “The door is fastened. 
Tiger, and we can’t get out. We can’t get out 
because the door is shut.” 

The dog’s tail had ceased to wag ; he took in the 
situation, for his whole expression showed dejection, 
and he drooped his head. 

It was now quite evident to Annie that Tiger had 
been here before, and that on some other occasion in 
his life he had wanted to get out and could not 
because the door was shut. 

“Now, Tiger,” said Annie, speaking cheerfully, 


''Tiger, we Must get OutT 265 

and rising to her feet, ‘^we must get out Nan and 
I are hungry, and you want your bone. Take us out 
the other way, good Tiger — the other way, dear 
dog.” 

She moved instantly towards the little passage; 
the dog followed her. 

“The other way,” she said, and she turned her 
back on the long narrow passage, and took a step 
or two into complete darkness. The dog began to 
whine, caught hold of her dress, and tried to pull her 
back. 

“Quite right. Tiger, we won’t go that way,” 
said Annie instantly. She returned into the dimly- 
lighted room. 

“ Find a way— find a way out, Tiger,^^ she 
said. 

The dog evidently understood her; he moved 
restlessly about the room. Finally he got up on the 
bed, pulled and scratched and tore away the straw 
at the upper end, then, wagging his tail, flew to 
Annie’s side. She came back with him. Beneath 
the straw was a tiny, tiny trap-door. 

“ Oh, Tiger ! ” said the girl ; she went down on her 
knees, and, finding she could not stir it, wondered 
if this also was kept in its place by a system of bal- 
ancing. She was right ; after a very little pressing 
the door moved aside, and Annie saw four or five 
rudely carved steps. 

“ Come, Nan,” she said joyfully, “ Tiger has saved 
us ; these steps must lead us out.” 

The dog, with a joyful whine, went down first, and 
Annie, clasping Nan tightly in her arms, followed 
him. Four, five, six steps they went down ; then, to 
Annie’s great joy, she found that the next step began 


266 


A World of Girls. 


to ascend. Up and up she went, cheered by a wel- 
come shaft of light. Finally she, Nan, and the dog 
found themselves emerging into the open air, through 
a hole which might have been taken for a large 
rabbit burrow. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

RESCUED. 

The girl, the child, and the dog found themselves in 
a comparatively strange country — Annie had com- 
pletely lost her bearings. She looked around hei 
for some sign of the gipsies^ encampment ; but 
whether she had really gone a greater distance than 
she imagined in those underground vaults, or whether 
the tents were hidden in some hollow of the ground, 
she did not know ; she was only conscious that she 
was in a strange country, that Nan was clinging to 
her and crying for her breakfast, and that Tiger was 
sniffing the air anxiously. Annie guessed that Tiger 
could take them back to the camp, but this was 
by no means her wish. When she emerged out of the 
underground passage she was conscious for the first 
time of a strange and unknown experience. Abso- 
lute terror seized the brave child ; she trembled 
from head to foot, her head ached violently, and 
the ground on which she stood seemed to reel, and 
the sky to turn round. She sat down for a moment 
on the green grass. What ailed her ? where was she ? 
how could she get home? Nan^s little piteous wail, 
“ Me want my bekfas’, me want my nursie, me want 
Hetty,” almost irritated her. ' 


Homeward Bound. 


267 


** Oh, Nan,” she said at last piteously, “ have you 
not got your own Annie? Oh, Nan, dear little Nan, 
Annie feels so ill ! ” 

Nan had the biggest and softest of baby hearts 
— breakfast, nurse, Hetty, were all forgotten in the 
crowning desire to comfort Annie. She climbed on 
her knee and stroked her face and kissed her lips. 

“’Oo better now?” she said in a tone of baby 
inquiry. 

Annie roused herself with a great effort. 

“Yes, darling,” she said; “we will try and get 
home. Come, Tiger. Tiger, dear, I don’t want to 
go back to the gipsies ; take me the other way — 
take me to Oakley.” 

Tiger again sniffed the air, looked anxiously at 
Annie, and trotted on in front. Little Nan in her 
ragged gipsy clothes walked sedately by Annie’s 
side. 

“ Where ’00 s’oes ? ” she said, pointing to the 
girl’s bare feet. 

“Gone, Nan — gone. Never mind. I’ve got you. 
My little treasure, my little love, you’re safe at 
last.” 

As Annie tottered, rather than walked, down 
a narrow path which led directly through a field 
of standing corn, she was startled by the sudden 
apparition of a bright-eyed girl, who appeared so 
suddenly in her path that she might have been 
supposed to have risen out of the very ground. 

The girl stared hard at Annie, fixed her eyes 
inquiringly on Nan and Tiger, and then, turning 
on her heel, dashed up the path, -went through a 
turn-stile, across the road, and into a cottage. 

“Mother,” she exclaimed, “I said she warn’t a 


268 


A World of Girls. 


real gipsy ; she’s a-coming back, and her face is 
all streaked like, and she has a little ’un along 
with her, and a dawg, and the only one as is 
gipsy is the dawg. Come and look at her, mother ; 
oh, she is a fine take-in ! ” 

The round-faced, good-humoured looking mother, 
whose name was Mrs. Williams, had been washing 
and putting away the breakfast things when her 
daughter entered. She now wiped her hands 
hastily and came to the cottage door. 

“ Cross the road, and come to the stile, mother,” 
said the energetic Peggy — “ oh, there she be a- 
creeping along — oh, ain’t she a take-in ? ” 

“ ’Sakes alive!” ejaculated Mrs. Williams, “the 
girl is ill I why, she can’t keep herself steady I There ! 
I knew she’d fall ; ah I poor little thing — poor little 
thing.” 

It did not take Mrs. Williams an instant to 
reach Annie’s side ; and in another moment she had 
lifted her in her strong arms and carried her into 
the cottage, Peggy lifting Nan and following in 
the rear, while Tiger walked by their sides. 


CHAPTER XLVIIL 

DARK DAYS. 

A WHOLE week had passed, and there were no 
tidings whatever of little Nan or of Annie Forest. 
No one at Lavender House had heard a word 
about them ; the police came and went, detectives - 
even arrived from London, but there were no traces 
whatever of the missing children. 


Dismal Days. 


269 


The Midsummer holiday was now close at hand, 
but no one spoke of it or thought of it. Mrs. 
Willis told the teachers that the prizes should be 
distributed, but she said she could invite no guests 
and could allow of no special festivities. Miss 
Danesbury and Miss Good repeated her words to 
the school-girls, who answered without hesitation 
that they did not wish for feasting and merriment ; 
they would rather the day passed unnoticed. In 
truth, the fact that their baby was gone, that their 
favourite and prettiest and brightest schoolmate 
had also disappeared, caused such gloom, such 
distress, such apprehension that even the most 
thoughtless of those girls could scarcely have 
laughed or been merry. School-hours were still 
kept after a fashion, but there was no life in the 
lessons. In truth, it seemed as if the sun would 
never shine again at Lavender House. 

Hester was ill ; not very ill — she had no fever, 
she had no cold ; she had, as the good doctor ex- 
plained it, nothing at all wrong, except that her 
nervous system had got a shock. 

“ When the little one is found. Miss Hetty 
will be quite well again,” said the good doctor ; 
but the little one had not been found yet, and 
Hester had completely broken down. She lay on 
her bed, saying little or nothing, eating scarcely 
anything, sleeping not at all. All the girls were 
kind to her, and each one in the school took turns 
in trying to comfort her ; but no one could win a 
smile from Hester, and even Mrs. Willis failed 
utterly to reach or touch her heart. 

Mr. Everard came once to see her, but he had 
scarcely spoken many words when Hester broke into 


2/0 A World of Girls, 

an agony of weeping, and begged him to go away. 
He shook his head when he left her, and said sadly 
to himself — 

“ That girl has got something on her mind ; she is 
grieving for more than the loss of her little sister.” 

The twentieth of June came at last, and the girls 
sat about in groups in the pleasant shady garden, and 
talked of the very sad breaking-up day they were to 
have on the morrow, and wondered if, when they 
returned to school again, Annie and little Nan would 
have been found. Cecil Temple, Dora Russell, and 
one or two others were sitting together, and whisper- 
ing in low voices. Mary Price joined them, and said 
anxiously — 

“ I don’t think the doctor is satisfied about Hester. 
Perhaps I ought not to have listened, but I heard him 
talking to Miss Danesbury just now ; he said she 
must be got to sleep somehow, and she is to have 
a composing draught to-night.” 

“ I wish poor Hetty would not turn away from us 
all,” said Cecil ; “ I wish she would not quite give up 
hope ; I do feel sure that Nan and Annie will be 
found yet.” 

“ Have you been praying about it, Cecil .? ” asked 
Mary, kneeling on the grass, laying her elbows on 
CeciPs knees, and looking into her face. Do you say 
this because you have faith } ” 

“ I have prayed, and I have faith,” replied Cecil in 
her simple, earnest way. “Why, Dora, what is the 
matter ? ” 

“Only that it’s horrid to leave like this,” said 
Dora; “I — I thought my last day at school would 
have been so different, and somehow I am sorry I 
spoke so much against that poor little Annie,” 


A LETTTEk FROM C APT AIN PoREST. 2^\ 

Here Cecil suddenly rose from her seat, and, 
going up to Dora, clasped her arms round her 
neck. 

“ Thank you, Dora,” she said with fervour ; “ I 
love you for those words.” 

“ Here comes Susy,” remarked Mary Price. " I 
really don’t think anything would move Susy ; she^^s 
just as stolid and indifferent as ever. Ah, Susy, 
here^s a place for you — oh, what is the matter with 
Phyllis } see how she’s rushing towards us ! Phyllis, 
my dear, don’t break your neck.” 

Susan, with her usual nonchalance, seated herself 
by Dora Russell’s side. Phyllis burst excitedly into 
the group. 

“ I think,” she exclaimed, “ I really, really do think 
that news has come of Annie’s father. Nora said 
that Janet told her that a foreign letter came this 
morning to Mrs. Willis, and somebody saw Mrs. 
Willis talking to Miss Danesbury — oh, I forgot, only 
I know that the girls of the school are whispering the 
news that Mrs. Willis cried, and Miss Danesbury said, 
‘ After waiting for him four years, and now, when he 
comes back, he won’t find her ! ’ Oh dear, oh dear ! 
there is Danesbury. Cecil, darling love, go to her, 
and find out the truth.” 

Cecil rose at once, went across the lawn, said a 
few words to Miss Danesbury, and came back to the 
other girls. 

“ It is true,” she said sadly, “there came a letter 
this morning from Captain Forest; he will be at 
Lavender House in a week. Miss Danesbury says it 
is a wonderful letter, an^ he has been shipwrecked, 
and on an island by himself for ever so long ; but he 
is safe now, and will soon be in England. Miss 


A World of Girls. 


Danesbury says Mrs. Willis can scarcely speak about 
that letter ; she is in great, great trouble, and Miss 
Danesbury confesses that they are all more anxious 
than they dare to admit about Annie and little Nan.’* 

At this moment the sound of carriage wheels was 
heard on the drive, and Susan, peering forward to see 
who was arriving, remarked in her usual nonchalant 
manner — 

" Only the little Misses Bruce in their basket- 
carriage — what dull-looking women they are ! ■” 

Nobody commented, however, on her observation, 
and gradually the little group of girls sank into abso- 
lute silence. 

From where they sat they could see the basket- 
carriage waiting at the front entrance — the little ladies 
had gone inside, all was- perfect silence and stillness. 

Suddenly on the stillness a sound broke — the 
sound of a girl running quickly ; nearer and nearer 
came the steps, and the four or five who sat together 
under the oak-tree noticed the quick panting breath, 
and felt even before a word was uttered that evil 
tidings were coming to them. They all started to 
their feet, however ; they all uttered a cry of horror 
and distress when Hester herself broke into their 
midst. She was supposed to be lying down in a 
darkened room, she was supposed to be very ill — 
what was she doing here ? 

“ Hetty ! ” exclaimed Cecil. 

Hester pushed past her ; she rushed up to Susan 
Drummond, and seized her arm. 

“ News has come ! ” she panted ; “ news — news at 
last ! Nan is found ! — and Annie — they are both 
found — but Annie is dying. Come, Susan, come this 
moment ; we must both tell what we know now.” 


“ I MUST Speak to You!* 


273 


By her impetuosity, by the intense fire of her 
passion and agony, even Susan was electrified into 
leaving her seat and going with her. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

TWO CONFESSIONS. 

Hester dragged her startled and rather unwilling 
companion in through the front entrance, past ^ome 
agitated-looking servants who stood about in the hall, 
and through the velvet curtains into Mrs. Willis’s 
boudoir. 

The Misses Bruce were there, and Mrs. Willis in 
her bonnet and cloak was hastily packing some things 
into a basket. 

“ I — I must speak to you,” said Hester, going up 
to her governess. “ Susan and I have got something 
to say, and we must say it here, now at once.” 

“ No, not now, Hester,” replied Mrs. Willis, looking 
for a moment into her pupil’s agitated face. “ What- 
ever you and Susan Drummond have to tell cannot 
be listened to by me at this moment. I have not an 
instant to lose.” 

“You are going to Annie } ” asked Hester. 

“ Yes ; don’t keep me. Good-bye, my dears ; good- 
bye.” 

Mrs. Willis moved towards the door; Hester, who 
felt almost beside herself, rushed after her, and caught 
her arm. 

“ Take us with you, take Susy and me with you— 
we must, we must see Annie before she dies.” 

“Hush, my child,” said Mrs. Willis very quietly; 

R 


274 World of Girls, 

‘‘try to calm yourself. Whatever you have got to 
say shall be listened to later on — now moments are 
precious, and I cannot attend to you. Calm yourself, 
Hester, and thank God for your dear little sister’s 
safety. Prepare yourself to receive her, for the 
carriage which takes me to Annie will bring little 
Nan Kome.’^ 

Mrs. Willis left the room, and Hester threw her- 
self on her knees and covered her face with her 
trembling hands. Presently she was aroused by a 
light* touch on her arm ; it was Susan Drummond. 

“ I may go now, I suppose, Hester? You are not 
quite determined to make a fool of me, are you ? ” 

“ I have, determined to expose you, you coward ; 
you mean, mean girl ! ” answered Hester, springing 
to her feet. “ Come, I have no idea of letting you 
go. Mrs. Willis won’t listen — we will find Mr. 
Everard.” 

Whether Susan would really have gone with 
Hester remains to be proved, but just at that moment 
all possibility of retreat was cut away from her by 
Miss Agnes Bruce, who quietly entered Mrs. Willises 
private sitting-room, followed by the very man Hester 
was about to seek. 

“ I thought it best, my dear,” she said, turning 
apologetically to Hester, “ to go at once for our good 
clergyman ; you can tell him all that is in your heart, 
and I will leave you. Before I go, however, I should 
like to tell you how I found Annie and little Nan.” 

Hester made no answer ; just for a brief moment 
she raised her eyes to Miss Agnes’s kind face, then 
they sought the floor. 

“The story can be told in a few words, dear,” 
said the little lady. “ A workwoman of the name of 


M/ss Agnes's Stoey. 275 

Williams, whom my sister and I have employed for 
years, and who lives near Oakley, called on us this 
morning to apologise for not being able to finish some 
needlework. She told us that , she had a sick child, 
and also a little girl of three, in her house. She said 
she had found the child, in ragged gipsy garments, 
fainting in a field. She took her into her house, and, 
on undressing her, found that she was no true gipsy, 
but that her face and hands and arms had been dyed ; 
she said the little one had been treated in a similar 
manner. Janets suspicions and mine were instantly 
roused, and we went back with the woman to Oakley, 
and found, as we had anticipated, that the children 
were little Nan and Annie. The sad thing is that 
Annie is in high fever, and knows no one. We waited 
there until the doctor ^arrived, who spoke very, very 
seriously of her case. Little Nan is well, and asked 
for you.” 

With these last words Miss Agnes Bruce softly left 
the room, closing the door after her. 

“ Now, Susan,” said Hester, without an instant’s 
pause ; “ come, let us tell Mr. Everard of our wicked- 
ness. Oh, sir,” she added, raising her eyes to the 
clergyman’s face, “ if Annie dies I shall go mad. Oh, 
I cannqt, cannot bear life if Annie dies ! ” 

“ Tell me what is wrong, my poor child,” said Mr. 
Everard. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and 
gradually and skilfully drew from the agitated and 
miserable girl the story of her sin, of her cowardice, 
and of her deep, though until now unavailing repent- 
ance. How from the first she had hated and disliked 
Annie; how unjustly she had felt towards her; how 
she had longed and hoped Annie was guilty; and 
how, when at last the clue was put into her hands to 
R 2 


276 A World of Girls. 

prove Annie’s absolute innocence, she had determined 
not to use it. 

‘‘From the day Nan was lost,” continued Hesten 
“ it has been all agony and all repentance ; but, oh, I 
was too proud to tell*! I was too proud to humble 
myself to the very dust ! ” 

“ But not now,” said the clergyman very gently. 

“ No, no ; not now. I care for nothing now in all 
the world except that Annie may live.” 

“ You don’t mind the fact that Mrs. Willis and all 
your schoolfellows must know of this, and must — 
must judge you accordingly ? ” 

“ They can’t think worse of me than I think of 
myself. I only want Annie to live.” 

“ No, Hester,” answered Mr. Everard, " you want 
more than that — you want far more than that. It 
may be that God will take Annie Forest away. We 
cannot tell. With Him alone are the issues of life 
or death. What you really want, my child, is the 
forgiveness of the little girl you have wronged, and 
the forgiveness of your Father in heaven.” 

Hester began to sob wildly. 

“ If — if she dies — may I see her first ? ” she 
gasped. 

“Yes ; I will try and promise you that. Now, will 
you go to your room ? I must speak to Miss Drum- 
mond alone ; she is a far worse culprit than you.” 

Mr. Everard opened the door for Hester, who 
went silently out. 

“ Meet me in the chapel to-night,” he whispered 
low in her ear, “ I will talk with you and pray with 
you there.” 

He closed the door, and came back to Susan. 

All throughout this interview his manner had been 


Si/sy^s Confession. 


277 


very gentle to Hester ; but the clergyman could be 
stern, and there was a gleam of very righteous anger 
in his eyes as he turned to the sullen girl who leaned 
heavily against the table. 

“ This narrative of Hester Thornton’s is, of course, 
quite true. Miss Drummond ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; there seems to be no use in denying 
that,” said Susan. 

“ I must insist on your telling me the exact story 
of your sin. There is no use in your attempting to 
deny anything ; only the utmost candour on your part 
can now save you from being publicly expelled.” 

" I am willing to tell,” answered Susan. “ I meant 
no harm ; it was done as a bit of fun. I had a cousin 
at home who was very clever at drawing caricatures, 
and I happened to have nothing to do one day, and I 
was alone in Annie’s bedroom, and I thought I’d like 
to see what she kept in her desk. I always had a 
fancy for collecting odd keys, and I found one on my 
bunch which fitted her desk exactly. I opened it, 
and I found such a smart little caricature of Mrs. 
Willis. I sent the caricature to my cousin, and 
begged of her to make an exact copy of it. She did 
so, and I put Annie’s back in her desk, and pasted 
the other into Cecil’s book. I didn’t like Dora 
Russell, and I wrapped up the sweeties in her theme ; 
but I did the other for pure fun, for I knew Cecil 
would be so shocked ; but I never guessed the blame 
would fall on Annie. When I found it did, I felt 
inclined to tell once or twice, but it seemed too much 
trouble, and, besides, I knew Mrs. Willis would punish 
me, and, of course, I didn’t wish that. 

“ Dora Russell was always very nasty to me, and 
when I found she was putting on such airs, and pretend- 


278 


A World or Girls. 


ing she could write such a grand essay for the prize, 
I thought I’d take down her pride a bit. I went to her 
desk, and I got some of the rough copy of the thing 
she was calling ‘ The River,’ and I sent it off to my 
cousin, and my cousin made up such a ridiculous 
paper, and she hit off Dora’s writing to the life, and, 
of course, I had to put it into Dora’s desk and tear up 
her real copy. It was very unlucky Hester being in 
the room. Of course I never guessed that, or I 
wouldn’t have gone. That was the night we all went 
with Annie to the fairies’ field. I never meant to get 
Hester into a scrape, nor Annie either, for that mat- 
ter ; but, of course, I couldn’t be expected to tell on 
myself.” 

Susan related her story in her usual monotonous 
and sing-song voice. There was no trace of apparent 
emotion on her face, or of regret in her tones. When 
she had finished speaking Mr. Everard was absolutely 
silent. 

I took a great deal of trouble,” continued Susan, 
after a pause, in a slightly fretful key. “ It was really 
nothing but a joke, and I don’t see why such a fuss 
should have been made. I know I lost a great deal 
of sleep trying to manage that twine business round 
my foot. I don’t think I shall trouble myself play- 
ing any more tricks upon school-girls — they are not 
worth it.” 

“ You’ll never play any more tricks on these girls,” 
said Mr. Everard, rising to his feet, and suddenly filling 
the room and reducing Susan to an abject silence by 
the ring of his stern, deep voice. “ I take it upon me, 
in the absence of your mistress, to pronounce your 
punishment. You leave Lavender House in disgrace 
this evening. Miss Good will take you home, and 


Expelled, 


279 


explain to your parents the cause of your dismissal. 
You are not to see any of your school-fellows again. 
Your meanness, your cowardice, your sin require no 
words on my part to deepen their vileness. Through 
pure wantonness you have cast a cruel shadow on an 
innocent young life. If that girl dies, you indeed are 
not blameless in the cause of her early removal, for 
through you her heart and spirit were broken. Miss 
Drummond, I pray God you may at least repent and 
be sorry. There are some people mentioned in the 
Bible who are spoken of as past feeling. Wretched 
girl, while there is yet time, pray that you may not 
belong to them. Now I must leave you, but I shall 
lock you in. Miss Good will come for you in about 
an hour to take you away.” 

Susan Drummond sank down on the nearest seat, 
and began to cry softly ; one or two pin-pricks from 
Mr. Everard’s stern words may possibly have reached 
her shallow heart — no one can tell. She left Lavender 
House that evening, and none of the girls who had 
lived with her as their schoolmate heard of her 
again. 


CHAPTER L. 

THE HEART OF LITTLE NAN. 

For several days now Annie had lain unconscious in 
Mrs. Williams’s little bedroom; the kind-hearted 
woman could not find it in her heart to send the sick 
child away. Her husband and the neighbours ex- 
postulated with her, and said that Annie was only a 
poor little waif, 


28 o 


A World of Girls. 


She has no call on you,” said Jane Allen, a hard- 
featured woman who lived next door. “ Why should 
you put yourself out just for a sick lass ? and she’ll be 
much better off in the workhouse infirmary.” 

But Mrs. Williams shook her head at her hard- 
featured and hard-hearted neighbour, and resisted 
her husband’s entreaties. 

“ Eh ! ” she said, “ but the poor lamb needs a good 
bit of mothering, and I misdoubt me she wouldn’t 
get much of that in the infirmary.” 

So Annie stayed, and tossed from side to side of 
her little bed, and murmured unintelligible words, and 
grew daily a little weaker and a little more delirious. 
The parish doctor called, and shook his head over 
her; he was not a particularly clever man, but he 
was the best the Williamses could afford. While 
Annie suffered and went deeper into that valley of 
humiliation and weakness which leads to the gate of 
the Valley of the Shadow of Death, little Nan played 
with Peggy Williams, and accustomed herself after 
the fashion of little children to all the ways of her 
new and humble home. 

It was on the eighth day of Annie’s fever that 
the Misses Bruce discovered her, and on the evening 
of that day Mrs. Willis knelt by her little favourite’s 
bed. A better doctor had been called in, and all that 
money could procure had been got now for poor 
Annie ; but the second doctor considered her case 
even more critical, and said that the close air of the 
cottage was much against her recovery. 

" I didn’t make that caricature ; I took the girls 
into the fairies’ field, but I never pasted that carica- 
ture into Cecil’s book. I know you don’t believe 
me, Cecil ; but do you think I would really do any- 


“/ AM Innocent / 


281 


thing so mean about one whom I love? No, no! 
I am innocent I God knows it. Y es, I am glad of 
that — God knows it” 

Over and over in Mrs. Willis’s presence these 
piteous words would come from the fever-stricken 
child, but always when she came to the little sentence 
“ God knows I am innocent,” her voice would grow 
tranquil, and a faint and sweet smile would play 
round her lips. 

Late that night a carriage drew up at a little 
distance from the cottage, and a moment or two 
afterwards Mrs. Willis was called out of the room 
to speak to Cecil Temple. 

“ I have found out the truth about Annie ; I have 
come at once to tell you,” she said ; and then she 
repeated the substance of Hester’s and Susan’s 
story. 

“ God help me for having misjudged her,” mur- 
mured the head-mistress ; then she bade Cecil “ good 
night ” and returned to the sick-room. 

The next time Annie broke out with her piteous 
wail, “ They believe me guilty — Mrs. Willis does — 
they all do,” the mistress laid her hand with a firm 
and gentle pressure on the child’s arm. 

“Not now, my dear,” she said, in a slow, clear, 
and emphatic voice. “ God has shown your governess 
the truth, and she believes in you.” 

The very carefully-uttered words pierced through 
the clouded brain ; for a moment Annie lay quite 
still, with her bright and lovely eyes fixed on her 
teacher. 

“ Is that really you ? ” she asked. 

“ I am here, my darling.” 

“ And you believe in me ? ” 


282 


A World or Girls. 


“ I do most absolutely.” 

“ God does, too, you know,” answered Annie — 
bringing out the words quickly, and turning her head 
to the other side. The fever had once more gained 
supremacy, and she rambled on unceasingly through 
the dreary night 

Now, however, when the passionate words broke 
out, “ They believe me guilty,” Mrs. Willis always 
managed to quiet her by saying, “ I know you are 
innocent.” 

The next day at noon those girls who had not 
gone home — for many had started by the morning 
train — were wandering aimlessly about the grounds. 
Mr. Everard had gone to see Annie, and had pro- 
mised to bring back the latest tidings about her. 

Hester, holding little Nan’s hand — for she could 
scarcely bear to have her recovered treasure out of 
sight — had wandered away from the rest of her 
companions, and had seated herself with Nan under 
a large oak-tree which grew close to the entrance 
of the avenue. She had come here in order to be 
the very first to see Mr. Everard on his return. 
Nan had climbed into Hester’s lap, and Hester had 
buried her aching head in little Nan’s bright curls, 
when she started suddenly to her feet and ran 
forward. Her quick ears had detected the sound of 
wheels. 

How soon Mr. Everard had returned ; surely the 
news was bad ! She flew to the gate, and held it 
open in order to avoid the short delay which the 
lodge-keeper might cause in coming to unfasten it. 
She flushed however, vividly, and felt half inclined 
to retreat into the shade, when she saw that the 


" I AM Her Father^ 


283 


gentleman who was approaching was not Mr. Everard, 
but a tall, handsome, and foreign-looking man, who 
drove a light dog-cart himself. The moment he 
saw Hester with little Nan clinging to her skirts he 
stopped short. 

“ Is this Lavender House, little girl?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Hester. 

“ And can you tell me — but of course you know 
— you are one of the young ladies who live here, eh ? ” 

Hester nodded. 

“Then you can tell me if Mrs. Willis is at 
home — but of course she is.” 

“No, sir,” answered Hester; “I am sorry to tell 
you that Mrs. Willis is away. She has been called 
away on very, very sad business ; she won’t come 
back to-night.” 

Something in Hester’s tone caused the stranger 
to look at her attentively ; he jumped off the dog- 
cart and came to her side. 

“ See, here. Miss ” 

“Thornton,” put in Hester. 

“Yes, Miss — Miss Thornton, perhaps you can 
manage for me as well as Mrs. Willis ; after all I 
don’t particularly want to see her. If you belong 
to Lavender House, you, of course, know my — I 
mean you have a schoolmate here, a little, pretty 
gipsy rogue called Forest — little Annie Forest. I 
want to see her — can you take me to her } ” 

“ You are her father ? ” gasped Hester. 

“Yes, my dear child, I am her father. Now 
you can take me to her at once.” 

Hester covered her face. 

“ Oh, I cannot,” she said — I cannot take you to 
Annie. Oh, sir, if you knew all, you would feel 


2 §4 World of Girls. 

inclined to kill me. Don’t ask me about Annie 
— don’t, don’t” 

The stranger looked fairly non-plussed and not 
a little alarmed. Just at this moment Nan’s tiny 
fingers touched his hand. 

‘‘ Me’ll take ’oo to my Annie,” she said — 
“ mine poor Annie. Annie’s vedy sick, but me’ll 
take ’oo.” 

The tall, foreign-looking man lifted Nan into 
his arms. 

“ Sick, is she ? ” he answered. “ Look here 
young lady,” he added, turning to Hester, “what- 
ever you have got to say, I am sure you will 
try and say it ; you will pity a father’s anxiety and 
master your own feelings. Where is my little girl ? ” 

Hester hastily dried her tears. 

“ She is in a cottage near Oakley, sir.” 

“ Indeed ! Oakley is some miles from here ? ” 

“ And she is very ill.” 

“What of.?” 

“ Fever ; they — they fear she may die.” 

“Take me to her,” said the stranger. “If she 
is ill and dying she wants me. Take me to her 
at once. Here, jump on the dog-cart ; and, little 
one, you shall come too.” 

So furiously did Captain Forest drive that in a 
very little over an hour’s time his panting horse 
stopped at a few steps from the cottage. He called 
to a boy to hold him, and, accompanied by Hester, 
and carrying Nan in his arms, he stood on the 
threshold of Mrs. Williams’ humble little abode. Mr. 
Everard was coming out. 

“ Hester,” he said, “ you here ? I was coming for 

you.” 


Hope for Annie, 


285 


‘*0h, then she is worse ?” 

" She is conscious, and has asked for you. Yes, 
she is very, very ill.” 

“ Mr. Everard, this gentleman is Annie’s father.” 

Mr. Everard looked pityingly at Captain Forest. 

You have come back at a sad hour, sir,” he said. 
‘‘ But no, it cannot harm her to see you. Come 
with me.” 

Captain . Forest went first into the sick-room ; 
Hester waited outside. She had the little kitchen to 
herself, for all the Williamses, with the exception of 
the good mother, had moved for the time being to' 
other quarters. Surely Mr. Everard would come for 
her in a moment ? Surely Captain Forest, who had 
gone into the sick-room with Nan in his arms, would 
quickly return ? There was no sound. All was 
absolute quiet. How soon would Hester be sum- 
moned? Could she — could she bear to look at 
Annie’s dying face? Her agony drove her down 
on her knees. 

“ Oh, if you would only spare Annie ! ” she prayed 
to God. Then she wiped her eyes. This terrible sus- 
pense seemed more than she could bear. Suddenly 
the bedroom door was softly and silently opened, and 
Mr. Everard came out. 

She sleeps,” he said ; “ there is a shadow of hope. 
Little Nan has done it. Nan asked to lie down be- 
side her, and she said, ‘ Poor Annie ! poor Annie ! ’ 
and stroked her cheek ; and in some way, I don’t 
know how, the two have gone to sleep together. 
Annie did not even glance at her father ; she was 
quite taken up with Nan. You can come to the door 
and look at her, Hester.” 

Hester did so, A time had been when she could 


286 


A World of Girls. 


scarcely have borne that sight without a pang of 
jealousy ; now she turned to Mr. Everard : 

“ I — I could even give her the heart of little Nan 
to keep her here/'’ she murmured. 


CHAPTER LI. 

THE PRIZE ESSAY. 

Annie did not die. The fever passed away in that 
long and refreshing sleep, while Nan’s cool hand lay 
against her cheek. She came slowly, slowly back to 
life — to a fresh, a new, and a glad life. Hester, from 
being her enemy, was now her dearest and warmest 
friend. Her father was at home again, and she could 
no longer think or speak of herself as lonely or sad. 
She recovered, and in future days reigned as a greater 
favourite than ever at Lavender House. It . is only 
fair to say that Tiger never went back to the gipsies, 
but devoted himself first and foremost to Annie, and 
then to the Captain, who pronounced him a capital 
dog, and when he heard his story vowed he never 
would part with him. 

Owing to Annie’s illness, and to all the trouble and 
confusion which immediately ensued, Mrs. Willis did 
not give away her prizes at the usual time ; but when 
her scholars once more assembled at Lavender 
House she astonished several of them by a few 
words. 

“ My dears,” she said, standing in her accustomed 
place at the head of the long schoolroom, “ I intend 
now, before our first day of lessons begins, to distribute 
those prizes which would have been yours, under 



(( 


MRS. WILLIS 




PLACED A LOCKET 


ROUND HER NECK ” (/. 287) 










Annies Prize. 287 

ordinary circumstances, on the twenty-first of June. 
The prizes will be distributed during the afternoon 
recess ; but here, and now, I wish to say something 
about — and also to give away — the prize for English 
composition. Six essays, all written with more or 
less care, have been given to me to inspect. There 
are reasons which we need not now go into which 
made it impossible to me to say anything in favour of 
a theme called ‘ The River,’ written by my late pupil. 
Miss Russell ; but I can cordially praise a very nice 
historical sketch of Marie Antoinette, the work of 
Hester Thornton. Mary Price has also written a 
study which pleases me much, as it shows thought 
and even a little originality. The remainder of the 
six essays simply reach an ordinary average. You 
will be surprised therefore, my dears, to learn that I 
do not award the prize to any of these themes, but 
rather to a seventh composition, which was put into 
my hands yesterday by Miss Danesbury. It is crude 
and unfinished, and doubtless but for her recent ill- 
ness would have received many corrections ; but these 
few pages, which are called ‘ A Lonely Child,’ drew 
tears from my eyes ; crude as they are, they have the 
merit of real originality. They are too morbid to 
read to you, girls, and I sincerely trust and pray 
the young writer may never pen anything so sad 
again. Such as they are, however, they rank first in 
the order of merit, and the prize is hers. Annie, my 
dear, come forward.” 

Annie left her seat, and, amid the cheers of her 
companions, went up to Mrs. Willis, who placed a 
locket, attached to a slender gold chain, round her 
neck ; the locket contained a miniature of the head- 
mistress’s much-loved face. 


A World of Girls. 


288 


“ After all, think of our Annie Forest turning out 
clever, as well as being the prettiest and dearest girl 
in the school ! ” exclaimed several of her companions. 

“ Only I do wish,” added one, “ that Mrs. Willis 
had let us see the essay. Annie, treasure, come here ; 
tell us what the ‘ Lonely Child ’ was about.” 

“ I don’t remember,” answered Annie. " I don’t ‘ 
know what loneliness means now, so how can I 
describe it .? ” 





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